A   MEMBER   OF  THE   THIRD 
HOUSE 


fiamlin  Garland's  Books. 


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A  MEMBER  OF  THE 
THIRD  HOUSE 

A  STORY  OF  POLITICAL  WARFARE 


BY    HAMLIN     GARLAND 

AUTHOR  OF  WAYSIDE  COURT- 
SHIPS,  A  SPOIL  OF  OFFICE,  JASON 
EDWARDS,  ETC.  ::::::::: 


NEW  YORK 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 
M  DCCC  XCVII 


Copyright,  1897,  by 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1892,  by  Hamlin  Garland 


6233 


CONTENTS.  e  & 


Chapter.  Page. 

I.   THE  SCHOLAR  IN  POLITICS 7 

II.    TOM  BRENNAN'S  AMBITION 21 

III.  CAN  THE  SENATE  BE  BOUGHT  ? 33 

IV.  "  THE  GUTTER-SNIPE  MUST  RISE  " 48 

V.    THE  THIRD  HOUSE  IN  SESSION 66 

VI.   A  GAME  OF   TENNIS 75 

VII.    SENATOR  WARD  AT  HOME 102 

VIII.   THE  SUNDAY  PAPERS no 

IX.    AN  EVENING  CALL 119 

X.    "  I  WILL  TESTIFY" 132 

XI.   BEFORE  THE  JOINT  COMMITTEE 139 

XII.    SENATOR  WARD'S  APPEAL 143 

XIII.  THE  ROUT  OF  THE  RATS .- 183 

XIV.  THE  IRON  DUKE  RECKONS  WITH  HIMSELF 199 

XV.    BRENNAN  SACRIFICES  HIS  MUSTACHE ,      .  .216 


M518982 


A    MEMBER   OF   THE   THIRD    HOUSE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    SCHOLAR    IN    POLITICS. 

TT  was  a  phenomenally  hot  day  in  June.  The 
*  city  pulsed  with  a  suffocating-  heat  like  a  kiln 
for  steaming  wood.  The  air  was  filled  with 
moisture,  and  seemed  momentarily  on  the  point 
of  precipitating  rain,  while  the  sun  burned 
down  from  the  cobalt-blue  sky  with  terrific 
splendor.  Heavy  clouds  drove  in  like  great 
ships  from  the  sea  and  fell  in  brief,  heavy 
down-dropping  showers,  exactly  as  if  a  valve 
had  been  opened  and  shut.  Then  the  sun  burst 
out  again,  and  from  the  hissing  pavements  a 
gray,  suffocating  steam  arose  in  the  faces  of  the 
hastening  throngs  of  men. 

These  moments  were  terrifying,  and  in  every 
doorway  portly  men  could  be  seen  standing 
with  bared  heads,  panting  with  sudden  weak- 
ness and  vertigo,  their  faces  vermilion  with  the 
rush  of  blood.  The  hack  horses  and  dray 
teams  labored  to  and  fro,  steaming  with  sweat 


8  21  JHembn*  of  %  Sljtrb 

and  breathing"  convulsively,  their  tremulous, 
eager  nostrils  like  full-blown  red  trumpet-flow- 
ers. Their  eyelids  fell  wearily  and  sleepily 
over  their  dim  eyes,  and  they  responded  to  the 
whip  only  by  a  weak  thrusting  of  the  neck  or  an 
impotent  whisk  of  the  tail. 

A  young  man  walking  slowly  along  the  street 
stopped  to  watch  such  a  panting,  struggling 
team.  His  fine,  serious  face  clouded  with  sym- 
pathetic pain  as  the  teams  struggled  past  him. 
He  had  the  look  of  a  student.  His  brown 
beard  was  full  and  cut  in  an  oval  shape,  and  his 
rather  prominent  brown  eyes  were  partly 
hidden  by  his  spectacles,  the  bows  of  which 
went  behind  his  ears. 

A  short  man  with  a  fat  face  came  by,  keeping 
close  in  the  shadow,  carrying  his  hat  in  his 
hand.  "  Hello,  Tuttle,"  he  called,  "hot,  ain't 
it?  By  jinks,  my  shirt  sticks  to  me  like  the 
bark  to  a  tree.  Phew  !  What  you  looking  at  ?  " 

"  That  team.  It's  terrible  to  see  'em  labor  so 
on  a  day  like  this. " 

"Aha!  Moral, —  Vote  for  the  Consolidated 
and  give  the  horses  a  rest.  See?" 

Tuttle  looked  at  him  gravely.  "  Holbrook, 
you're  a  confirmed  lobbyist.  So  you  have  gone 
into  the  pay  of  the  Consolidated  ?  You  talked 
just  that  way  last  year  in  favor  of  the" 


21  JtUmbo;  of  tl)£  Sljirir 

Holbrook  grinned.  "Yes,  sir.  According 
to  my  lights.  According  to  my  lights.  I  see 
things  different  now.  Say,  your  investigating 
order  is  going  to  raise  the  devil  with  you  if  you 
put  it  through."  He  laid  his  moist  handker- 
chief over  his  bald  head  for  a  moment  as  one 
uses  a  blotting-pad. 

"  It  may  raise  the  devil  with  somebody  else," 
said  Tuttle,  quietly. 

"No,  I  guess  not.  Well,  let  'er  go,  Smith  ! 
Nothin'  like  havin'  fun  these  hot  days."  He 
winked  and  grinned  and  waddled  gayly  off  to 
enter  a  horse-car  moving  toward  the  Capitol. 

Tuttle  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  horses 
on  the  car  reached  a  level  and  turned  a  corner. 
This  sympathy  for  the  suffering  animals  marked 
him  as  a  man  of  rather  keen  sensibility.  As  he 
walked  on  the  sun  came  out  brilliantly  again, 
the  mists  quickly  disappeared,  and  life  was  a 
little  more  tolerable. 

Two  young  ladies  came  out  of  a  store  just 
ahead.  "Oh,  there's  Mr.  Tuttle,"  cried  one. 
She  floated  down  upon  him  like  a  spray  of  cool 
salt  foam.  "Oh,  Mr.  Tuttle,  isn't  it  warm?" 

"Well,  yes,  I'd  been  thinking  so  until  —  until 
I  saw  you.  You  look  as  cool  as  a  sherbet.  I 
don't  see  how  you  ladies  manage  to  keep  so 
cool. " 


10  21  Jttembnr  of  tlje  Sljiri  fijotw. 

"Our  looks  deceive,  I  can  assure  you/'  said 
the  taller  and  plainer  girl  of  the  two. 

"Ah,  Miss  Ward,  "he  greeted  her;  "I  didn't 
find  you  at  home  when  I  called  the  other  even- 
ing." 

"No,  father  wasn't  very  well,  and  " 

"  Oh,  we've  just  been  having  an  ice-cream 
soda.  We  stop  every  block  or  two  —  I've  eaten 
three.  Won't  you  come  in  and  let  me  treat  ?" 
cried  Miss  Davis.  "Oh,  come.  It'll  be  such 
fun." 

"Well,  I  can  stand  one  if  you  can  a  fourth." 
Tuttle  smiled,  as  he  followed  them  into  a  long 
and  excessively  clean  confectionery  store,  where 
they  took  seats  on  slender  revolving  wooden 
stools  in  a  long  row  before  a  polished  marble 
counter. 

Miss  Davis  chattered  on  like  a  jovial  little 
blue-jay.  She  was  pretty  in  a  dainty,  inconse- 
quential sort  of  way,  and  was  dressed  in  some 
light-colored,  fluffy  stuff  that  rustled  as  softly  as 
a  breeze  in  a  poplar  tree,  and  she  looked  deli- 
ciously  comfortable.  The  little  beads  of  perspi- 
ration on  her  white  temples  and  chin  seemed 
cool  as  the  drops  on  a  dainty  vase. 

"Ain't  this  heavenly?"  she  inquired,  as  she 
stirred  the  brown  mixture  with  the  long- 
handled,  tiny  spoon  which  went  with  the  soda. 


21  fHcmbn:  of  %  Sljirir  gmm.  11 

"  Don't  you  like  to  hear  the  spoon  as  it  goes 
through?  Grau-u!"  She  made  a  funny  little 
noise  to  imitate  the  sound  of  the  spoon. 
"This  makes  the  fourth.  Ain't  you  going  to 
try  one,  Evelyn  ?  I  believe  I  could  live  on  ice- 
cream sodas  and  macaroons  !  Couldn't  you  ? 

"For  a  limited  time  —  yes,"  Tuttle  replied, 
looking  into  the  sunny  shallows  of  her  blue 
eyes.  "  However,  I  prefer  to  go  on  in  a 
grosser  way  for  the  present — steaks  and  things 
like  that." 

"  What  do  you  legislators  do  on  such  days 
as  this  ?  "  inquired  Helene. 

"Adjourn,  mainly,"  said  Evelyn. 

"That's  what  we  should  do,  but  we  don't, 
and  can't.  Here  it  is  June,  and  the  business 
fairly  mountainous  before  us." 

"The  sessions  seem  to  be  getting  longer 
and  longer,  father  says.  Why  is  it?"  asked 
Evelyn. 

"The  Third  House.  Things  have  reached 
such  a  state  that  a  bill  must  pass  the  Third 
House  before  it  can  get  fairly  before  the  sup- 
posed law-makers,  and  even  then" 

"  What  is  the  Third  House?  "  asked  Helene, 
looking  up  from  her  soda.  "  I  see  so  many 
jokes  in  the  newspapers  about  it." 

"Yes,  it  is  a  joke  —  there.     I  should  define 


12  21  Jttemttfr  of  %  Stjirir 

it"  —  he  hesitated  as  if  to  be  exact — "as  a 
body  of  corrupt  men  who  stand  between  the 
people  and  legislation."  Helene,  who  had  been 
eating  her  cream  soda,  had  not  heard  a  word. 
She  was  thinking  what  beautiful  eyes  he  had, 
and  what  a  really  elegant  Prince-of- Wales  cut 
he  had  on  his  brown  beard. 

Evelyn  said  in  her  quiet  way: 

"  Father  says  the  Third  House  is  a  very  dan- 
gerous element." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you'd  take  me  to  see  it ! " 
Helene  cried  out. 

"Helene  evidently  thinks  it  a  menagerie," 
said  Evelyn. 

"  I  guess  I  won't  take  you  to  see  the  Third 
House." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  she  asked  with  wide  eyes. 

"  Because  it  ain't  a  fit  place  for  women  to  go." 

"  Why,  that's  the  reason  I  want  to  go." 

"  Why,  Helene  Davis  !  " 

"I  do  —  I  like  exciting  things." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tuttle,  you  must  come  over  and 
play  tennis  with  us.  I'm  just  all  doubled  up  on 
tennis  this  year.  I'm  going  to  be  a  champion." 
Evelyn  and  Tuttle  smiled  at  the  slang.  "  Last 
year  I  didn't  care  very  much  about  it,  but  that 
was  because  I  was  a  beginner.  And  then  I've 


21  JtUmbcr  of  t\)t  Sljirir  tyonst.  is 

got  the  loveliest  suit,  the  very  latest,  and  my 
racquet  is  a  regular  dandy !  " 

"  Helene,  your  sodas  have  gone  to  your  head." 

Tuttle  smiled  indulgently.  Helene  was  too 
beautiful  to  reprimand.  "I'll  come  if  I  can,  but 
I  expect  to  be  very  busy.  I'm  going  to  attack 
our  national  disgrace  —  this  Third  House  you 
hear  so  much  about  —  and  the  newspapers  are 
likely  to  'roast'  me." 

"Now  who's  talking  slang  ?  " 

Tuttle  laughed  and  rose.  "Well,  I  must  be 
going.  I  —  I'm  very  sorry." 

"Come  over  to-night,  won't  you  ?" 

"I  can't  to-night,  but  —  but  I  will  to-morrow 
• — the  Third  House  permitting." 

"I'll  look  for  you,  sure,"  smiled  Helene,  and 
audaciously  waved  a  little  kiss  at  him  —  after  he 
had  turned  away. 

Tuttle  walked  slowly  up  the  street,  in  thought 
too  deep  to  notice  the  heat.  He  felt  indefinably 
a  crisis  approaching  in  his  life,  like  the  thunder- 
storm which  the  unusual  smothering  heat  pre- 
dicted in  the  weather.  He  smiled  at  first  as  his 
mind  went  back  to  the  dainty  girl  stirring  the 
soda.  Then  he  grew  grave  again,  as  he  studied 
his  position  before  the  public,  and  especially 
before  Lawrence  B.  Davis,  the  great  railway 
president,  the  father  of  Helene. 


14  21  JHember  of  tf)t  ®l)irir 

"  Hold  on  there,  Tuttle  !  "  cried  a  voice,  as  a 
hand  touched  his  elbow. 

"Hel-lo,  Radbourn  !"  he  said,  his  face  light- 
ing into  a  beautiful  smile.  "  By  George,  I'm 
glad  to  see  you  !  Where'd  you  spring  from  ?  " 

"  Spring  from  ?  Didn't  you  hear  me  rap  on 
the  hotel  window  as  you  passed  ?  " 

"No,  you  see  I  was  busy" 

"I  should  say  so — going  along  in  a  perfectly 
black  study.  Well,  you  see  I'm  on  my  way  to 
the  West.  Stopping  over  a  day,  and  was  just 
going  out  to  look  you  up.  But  come  in  and  sit 
down  and  tell  me  all  about  things." 

They  returned  to  Milliard's  and  went  up  to 
Radbourn's  room,  which  was  high  enough  to 
get  all  the  breeze,  he  explained.  "  Yes,  I'm 
out  on  another  one  of  my  lecturing  trips. 
How's  everything  with  you  ? " 

"Well,  I've  done  it,  Radbourn,"  Tuttle  said, 
abruptly,  as  he  dropped  into  a  chair. 

A  faint  smile  lighted  Radbourn's  grave  face. 
"You  say  that  as  if  you  expected  me  to  know 
what  you've  done.  So  I  infer  that  it  has  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  land  question."  Tuttle's 
deprecatory  air  amused  him.  "Am  I  right?" 

"Yes,  I've  put  in  my  bill  to  charge  an  annual 
rent  for  street  franchises." 


21  JHembnr  of  tl)e  Sljirir  tytmst.  15 

"Good!"  Radbourn  said,  rising  and  throw- 
ing off  his  coat. 

"And  I've  carried  a  resolution  to  have  the 
methods  of  the  Consolidated  Railway  investi- 
gated. A  joint  committee  has  been  appointed 
for  the  purpose.  And  the  press  and  the 
monopoly  are  going  to  lift  my  hair." 

"Good!  We  need  a  martyr.  Am  I  to 
understand  that  all  this  —  great  —  spreading 
tree  has  sprung  —  from  that  little  mustard- 
seed  talk  we  had  last  winter  ?  " 

Tuttle    nodded.     "  Oh,   I'm    an    apt    pupil !  " 

"Well,  I  should  say  so.  Your  hand!"  As 
they  gripped  hands,  Tuttle  said,  with  a  com- 
ical look  in  his  spectacled  eyes : 

"That  spectral  cat  you  fellows  are  always 
talking  about  practically  made  my  bedpost  its 
promenade  for  months,  and  has  got  me  at  last 
just  where  my  enemies  want  me.  I  am  prac- 
tically fighting  the  Third  House  and  the  monopo- 
lists of  all  the  houses  alone." 

"Well,  tell  me  all  about  it.  I've  only  just  a 
hint  of  it  from  the  newspapers  !"  He  stretched 
himself  on  the  lounge.  "  Excuse  me,  won't 
you?  I  was  riding  all  night.  Take  off  your 
coat  if  you  feel  too  warm." 

Tuttle  had  a  curious  air  of  being  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  teacher  as  well  as  a  friend.  There  was 


16  21  JHembn*  of  tlje  Sljtri 

a  look  of  timidity  in  his  eyes.  "  I  don't  need  to 
explain  the  Third  House, "  he  began. 

"No,  it's  a  condition  in  every  capital. 
Wherever  there  is  public  property  to  be  voted 
into  private  pockets,  in  fact  " 

"  Well,  we've  got  a  monopoly  in  this  State 
and  city  that  has  become  a  terrible  power, 
partly  with  the  consent  of  the  people,  partly 
against  it.  The  Consolidated  owns  the  Air- 
line road  over  which  you  came  to-day,  and  the 
street  railways  in  half  a  dozen  of  our  cities.  It 
has  swallowed  half  the  lines  of  road  in  this 
city,  and  is  trying  to  secure  a  charter  which  will 
practically  put  every  street  into  its  hands." 

"  Oh,  it's  the  universal  movement !"  sighed 
Radbourn.  "But  it  can't  last  always. " 

"They  came  before  the  legislature  last  year, 
opposing  the  charter  for  a  road  of  the  very 
character  which  they  now  ask  for  themselves. 
It  is  claimed  that  they've  put  a  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  into  the  Third  House,  till  there  is 
no  opposition.  The  papers,  just  now,  are  full 
of  stories  of  their  attack  on  the  senate. 
Members  of  the  lower  house  have  told  me 
that,  at  the  Hilliard  bar,  twenty  thousand  dol- 
lars have  been  deposited  by  an  agent  of  the 
Consolidated  to  pay  bets  with  !  " 


of  tlje  Sfyirir  §0n0e.  17 

"How's  that?"  Radbourn  sat  up.  "Why, 
that's  a  new  idea!  " 

"The  member  of  the  Third  House  is  able  to 
slip  up  to  the  bar  with  a  senator,  and  say : 
'Sam,  I've  just  lost  a  bet  of  two  thousand 
dollars  to  this  gentleman/  ' 

"  I  see,"  said  Radbourn.  "  He  bets  a  bill 
won't  pass." 

"  Yes.  The  road  is  said  to  have  three 
centers  of  action  —  the  Hilliard,  the  office  of 
the  attorney,  Fox,  and  a  den  on  some  side 
street,  a  frightful  place,  reeking  with  liquor  and 
all  foulness.  Men  are  trapped  and  debauched 
into  service  in  that  hole.  At  the  other  places 
they  are  bought  genteelly." 

"  Well,  who's  at  the  head  of  all  this  ?  It's 
easy  to  infer  a  head." 

"  Its  head  is  a  powerful  old  man,  who  has  a 
national  reputation  —  the  famous 'Iron  Duke/ 
You've  heard  of  him  in  connection  with 
the  Cedar  Knob  Mines  and  the  Bitter  River 
Railway  deal  —  Lawrence  B.  Davis.  I  don't 
know  how  deep  he  is  in  this  saturnalia  of 
bribery  that  is  reported  to  be  going  on.  I 
wish  I  did,"  he  ended,  with  a  changed  manner. 
A  look  of  sadness  came  over  his  face,  and  his 
eyes  fell  in  thought. 

"Now  what  d'ye  mean  by  that?"  asked  Rad- 


18  21  $Tcmbrr  of  %  Sfljirir  §ou0e. 

bourn,  rousing  up  on  his  elbows  again  to  stare 
at  him. 

"Oh,  nothing — that  is,  it's  a  purely  private 
affair.  Yes,  I'll  tell  you  about  it, "  he  went  on, 
with  an  impulsive  gesture.  "The  Iron  Duke 
has  —  has  a  daughter. " 

A  sympathetic  shadow  came  into  Radbourn's 
eyes. 

"Ah!  I  see.  Old  story!  Struggle  of  love 
and  duty!  The  poor  youth,  the  rich  maiden, 
et  cetera." 

"Yes,  it  does  seem  sort  of  theatrical  to 
everybody  but  myself.  But  it's  tremendously 
real  life  to  me.  I  can't  think  her  father  is  a  full 
party  to  the  corruption.  It  is  done,  I  think, 
mainly  by  two  of  the  trustees  of  the  road, 
through  a  notorious  lobbyist,  Tom  Brennan, 
and  an  attorney  by  the  name  of  Fox." 

"Well,  brother  Tuttle,  that  sounds  a  little  — 
diaphanous,  I'm  afraid.  A  man  of  the  character 
of  Davis  is  not  made  use  of  in  that  way.  But 
who  is  this  man  Brennan?" 

"He's  the  cleverest  Irishman  I  ever  saw. 
He's  a  genius  in  many  ways,  a  man  with  infinite 
resources,  but  a — a — a  conscienceless  cormo- 


rant." 


That's  drawing  it — rather  strong,  Tuttle." 
1  Well,  he  isn't  a  bit  theatrical,  if  I  am.     He's 


21  JHunter  of  tlje  Sljirir  $0nse.  19 

a  real  villain,  and  not  a  stage  caricature.  One 
of  these  laughing,  handsome,  successful,  ingra- 
tiating, soulless  " 

"  Hold  on  !  You  are  piling  it  up.  He  isn't  a 
—  he  isn't  a  rival?"  suggested  Radbourn. 
Tuttle  grew  red  and  dropped  his  eyes.  "  Now, 
Tuttle,  I  don't  want  to  drag  the  secret  out 
of  you,  but  if  you  want  my  honest  advice,  as 
I  infer  you  do,  give  me  the  straight  facts." 

"  Well,  he's  the  Iron  Duke's  secretary  and 
confidential  agent,  and  he  wants  Helene,  of 


course." 


Radbourn  was  amused.  "  I  understand  the 
force  of  that  '  of  course/  but  how  about  Helene  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  she  likes  him.  He 
seems  to  have  a  singular  fascination  for  the 
average  woman,  and  lately  she — she  don't 
seem  " He  did  not  finish.  It  wasn't  neces- 
sary. Radbourn  was  in  possession  of  the  main 
facts. 

There  was  a  little  pause,  and  then  Radbourn 
summed  it  up.  "I  think  I  see  the  whole  situa- 
tion. You  have  set  on  foot  an  investigation 
that  is  sure  —  no  'maybe'  about  it  —  to  turn 
the  Duke  and  Helene  against  you,  while  the 
real-life  villain  triumphantly  bears  away  the 
spoils,  as  he  generally  does  in  life,  to  be  honest 
about  it. " 


20  ft  JHember  of  i\)t  Sfyirft  fijcm0e. 

There  was  a  pause.  The  roar  of  the  street 
came  through  the  open  window,  softened,  puls- 
ing in  the  freshening  breeze.  Tuttle  saw  on  his 
friend's  face,  which  faintly  resembled  Napoleon's, 
a  look  that  was  both  savage  and  lofty.  "  Now 
do  you  ask  what  my  advice  is  ?  " 

"I  don't  need  to,"  Tuttle  said  in  a  low  voice. 
"  I  see  it  all  myself." 

"  Of  course,  there  is  just  one  thing  to  say  — 
justice  !  The  time  has  come  when  a  stand  must 
be  made  all  along  the  line  for  justice." 

"  And  freedom,"  added  Tuttle. 

"  That's  the  whole  of  it,"  said  Radbourn,  with 
his  infrequent  smile.  And  I  tell  you  the  final 
outcome  will  be  good.  You  know  what  Whit- 
man says :  '  Whatever  is,  is  well.  Whither  I 
walk  I  cannot  divine,  but  I  know  it  is  well/ 
Stand  for  the  right  thing,  the  conscientious 
thing,  Wilson,  and  you  will  lose  nothing  in  the 
end — that  is  my  faith.  Come,  let's  go  down  to 
dinner  and  talk  it  over." 


CHAPTER  II. 
TOM  BRENNAN'S  AMBITION. 

,  he  has  a  jag!  "  commented  the  elevator 
boy,  as  he  looked  through  the  barred  door 
of  the  descending  car  at  the  Honorables  Tim 
Sheehan  and  Pat  Murnahan,  of  the  Eighth  and 
Ninth  Wards,  respectively. 

"This  is  the  door,"  said  Tim,  as  Murnahan 
shook  his  fist  at  the  grinning  boy  disappearing 
down  the  shaft.  They  stood  before  a  ground  glass 
door  on  which  was  painted  :  Samuel  D.  Fox, 
Thomas  Brennan,  Attorneys-at-Law.  "Shall  I 
knock?" 

"Naw!     Gaw  right  in!" 

Murnahan  took  off  his  pearl-gray  plug  hat, 
and,  holding  it  in  his  hand,  opened  the  door  and 
walked  in  with  elaborate  but  uncertain  dignity. 
A  young  man  with  a  grave,  pale  face  that  nothing 
(apparently)  could  cause  to  light  into  a  smile  or 
flush  into  color,  rose  from  his  desk  in  the  outer 
office. 

"  Is  Tom  Brennan  in  ?  "  asked  Sheehan. 

The  young   man   approached  very  close  and 


22  31  JUcmber  of  %  ®l)irir  <jjo«0c. 

spoke  in  that  peculiar  placid  tone  a  deaf  person 
uses  : 

"What  did  you  say?" 

Murnahan  repeated  his  question. 

"Right  this  way,"  said  the  grave  young  man, 
as  he  knocked  on  the  door  of  the  inner  office. 
"A  couple  of  gents  to  see  Mr.  Brennan." 

A  smiling,  handsome  man  of  about  thirty  ap- 
peared. He  was  dressed  in  a  neat,  youthful 
suit  of  cassimere.  He  was  slightly  bald,  and 
had  a  fine  mustache  and  smiling  lips. 

"Ah,  my  dear  boys  !  Come  in.  What  can  I 
do  for  you?"  He  pushed  them  through  the 
door,  saying,  "Be  with  you  in  a  jiffy."  He 
crossed  the  room,  and  said  in  a  low  voice  to  the 
young  man,  "  Don't  let  anybody  in,  Robert. " 
The  young  man  nodded  and  took  his  seat  at  his 
desk  beside  his  telephone  and  type-writing  and 
telegraph  machines,  which  made  him  resemble 
the  man  in  the  orchestra  who  plays  several 
instruments. 

Brennan  pointed  his  thumb  at  the  inner  office 
and  grinned  broadly.  "  Their  nibses  tarried  too 
long  at  the  wine  last  night."  Then  he  returned 
to  his  private  office,  which  was,  in  fact,  the  private 
office  of  the  Iron  Duke. 

"Well,  gentlemen,  how  did  you  enjoy  our 
little  dinner  last  nurht  ?  Eh  ? " 


51  ittnnber  of  il]t  Sljirir  fyonst.          -  23 

" First- rate,  Tom,"  was  their  verdict. 

"  Your  roses  are  a  little  passe,"  he  said,  indi- 
cating the  flower  each  wore  in  the  lapel  of  his 
gray  Prince  Albert  frock.  "  Let  me  give  you  a 
fresh  one.  Just  happen  to  have  one.  An'  now 
what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  But  wait  —  haven't  had 
anything  this  p.  m.?" 

"  I  ain't.     Tim,  he's  all  balled  up." 

"  Oh,  ye  blackguard  !  And  him  been  loadin' 
up  since  breakfast !  "  roared  Sheehan. 

Brennan  joined  in  the  fun.  As  Murnahan  kept 
his  seat  Tom  didn't  really  perceive  how  intoxi- 
cated he  was,  and  took  from  a  snug  little  closet 
in  the  wall  a  couple  of  bottles  of  wine  and  some 
glasses. 

"  Well,  Tom,  we  came  down  to  thank  you  for 
your  supper.  It  was  gra-et  !  " 

"  That's  all  right  now.     Take  a  suup,  just." 

"  We  missed  our  thrains,  the  divil  take  ye  ! 
and  had  to  stay  at  the  Hoffman  all  night,  an* 
this  mornin'  '  What's  to  pay  ? '  sez  I.  *  Nuthin', ' 
sez  he.  '  The  divil,'  sez  I.  '  It's  all  settled/ 
sez  he.  An'  so  we  came  up  to  say  it's  damned 
clever  of  ye  when  a  poor  feller  visits  his  friends 
and  forgets  the  thrain." 

"Say!"  said  Brennan,  suddenly,  "this  ain't 
biz.  I  want  V  hedge  to-day.  I'll  bet  you  five 
hundred  dollars  apiece  we  lose  our  charter." 


24  21  JHemfor  of  %  (frljtrlr  <5cm0*. 

He  lay  back  in  his  chair,  put  his  thumbs 
behind  his  vest,  and  rocked  to  and  fro,  care- 
lessly. 

"  O,  ye're  jokin'  now,  Tom." 

"Am  I?"  he  said,  with  the  Irish  inflection. 
"  Here's  a  hundred  dollars  that  says  not." 

Sheehan  looked  at  the  neat  packet  of  bills. 
"  I'll  take  yeh."  They  shook  hands. 

"  Where'll  it  be  paid  ?  " 

"  Milliard's." 

"  I  guess  I'll  come  in  on  that,"  said  Pat. 

"All  right,  my  boy,  I'll  be  glad  to  see  you 
win.  Here's  y'r  squids."  He  paid  them  each 
fifty  dollars  and  showed  by  his  manner  that 
the  interview  was  over.  '  Well,  now,  boys,  I'm 
busy;  you'll  excuse  my  kicking  you  out." 

They  rose  with  effort.  "All  right,  but  mind 
ye  now  this  don't  bind  us." 

"  Certainly  not,  me  lads.  All  we  want  is  to 
have  ye  understand  the  bill,  see."  He  seemed 
to  use  this  in  something  more  than  a  jocular 
sense,  as  if  he  still  retained  the  wish  to  give  a 
tinge  of  honesty  to  a  barefaced  bribery. 

"  Av  coorse,"  said  Murnahan,  with  a  drunken 
leer,  trying  with  his  stiffening  fingers  to  button 
his  coat.  "  Sez  I,  Tim,  ye're  wild,  sez  I.  Tom 
is  as  straight  a  lad  as  ever  lived,  sez  I.  All 
that  he  wants  is  to  give  us  a  chance  to  hear  the 


21  Jlkmbcr  of  tlje  Sljiri  §oti0e.  25 

bill  discussed  on  its  merits,  sez  I,  and  he  ain't 
a-goin  to  lave  us  to  pay  bills  when  we  lose  our 
thrains,  sez  I." 

"  Well  now,  gentlemen/*  said  Brennan,  cutting 
short  Murnahan's  loquacity,  "  I'm  very  busy, 
but  come  again.  I'm  always  glad  to  see  two 
sons  from  the  old  sod." 

"But  wait.  Just  one  more  sup,"  he  said, 
going  back  to  the  stand  and  getting  a  bottle. 
"  We'll  dispinse  with  the  glasses,  eh  ?" 

"Avcoorse!" 

"  Shure,  we  prefair  the  bottle." 

They  drank  by  turns  and  wiped  their  lips  in  a 
common  sort  of  way,  laughing  loudly.  Bren- 
nan ended  it  at  last  by  hustling  them  out  good- 
naturedly.  "Well,  now,  good -by.  Robert, 
show  'em  the  elevator.  Come  down  and  see  us 
again.  But  don't  carry  away  the  taste  o'  the 
whisky,"  he  called  after  them.  "The  byes  '11  be 
down  on  me  like  a  hod  of  brick  on  a  Dutch- 


man/' 


He  returned  to  the  office,  replaced  the  bottles 
in  the  closet,  singing  as  he  did  so  in  a  perfectly 
youthful  and  lover-like  fashion.  He  seemed  all 
love  and  poesy. 

Helene  looked  in  at  the  door  unobserved,  say- 
ing, with  a  smile,  "Did  I  hear  you  singing,  Mr. 
Brennan  ?" 


26  21  Jttembcr  of  %  Sljirb  fijou0r. 

Brennan  calmly  but  quickly  closed  the  closet 
door.  "  You  did,  no  doubt.  Come  in  and  I'll 
stop." 

"How  very  kind  of  you?     Where's   papa?" 

"Gone  down  to  the  superintendent's  office. 
Expect  him  back  every  moment.  Won't  you  sit 
down  ?  " 

"  Who  were  those  horrible,  white-hatted  men 
who  just  went  out  ?  " 

"Legislators"  said  Brennan,  with  comic 
brevity. 

"Those  men?" 

"Those  men.  Of  such  is  the  legislatures 
of  our  nation  and  the  kingdoms  of  our  city 
councils." 

" Why,  they  looked  like"  —  Helene  wrinkled 
her  brow  in  the  effort  to  reach  a  synonym  — 
"  like  prize-fighters." 

"They're  all  that  —  they're  daisies." 

"What  do  they  come  here  for?  I'm  glad 
they're  gone,"  she  said. 

"  So  am  I,  but  sit  down.     I  want  to  see  you." 

Helene  went  to  the  door  and  called:  "Evelyn! 
Come  in,  dear.  We've  got  to  wait.  Papa  isn't 
here." 

Brennan  greeted  Miss  Ward  with  his  native, 
smiling  ease,  and  the  two  girls  took  seats  oppo- 
site him.  There  was  something  very  engaging 


21  JHembor  of  %  Sljirir  $01101,  27 

about  his  frank  face  and  pleasant  brown  eyes, 
and  both  girls  seemed  to  like  him  very  much. 
Helene,  sitting  in  the  big  chair,  fanned  herself 
with  a  demoralized  palm-leaf  fan  which  she 
found  on  the  table. 

"  How  warm  it  is  here  in  this  office  !  And 
the  streets  are  just  like  an  oven.  We  met  Mr. 
Tuttle  —  oh,  did  you  know  he  had  bought  that 
old-fashioned  cottage  right  opposite  ours  ?  " 

"No,  has  he?"  ' 

Brennan  looked  more  surprised  than  pleased. 

"  Yes,  he's  going  to  spend  his  summer  there. 
Ain't  that  nice  ?  " 

"Oh,  very  —  for  him!  I  suppose  he  didn't 
know  you  lived  opposite  ?  " 

Helene  looked  at  him  in  a  puzzled  way,  and 
Evelyn  said  quietly,  "  Sarcasms  are  always  lost 
on  Helene." 

"I  don't  understand  what  you're  saying/'  said 
Helene,  going  on  with  her  plans.  "We  want 
you  to  come  over  and  make  up  a  set  to  play 
lawn-tennis  to-night.  Can't  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  I'll  try  to.  But  you  see  I'm  awfully  busy 
in  the  office  just  now,  and,  the  Third  House  being 
in  session,  there's  no  getting  away." 

"Poor  fellows!  Wilson  says  the  same  thing. 
But  I  suppose  laws  have  to  be  made.  You 
work  together,  don't  you  ?" 


28  21  JHember  of  %  Stjtrir 

Brennan  twisted  his  lips  in  an  amusing  way. 
"Well,  not  exactly.  Well  —  yes,"  he  went 
on,  as  if  it  were  the  shortest  way  out  of  it. 
"  We  both  help  to  make  the  laws.  Three 
houses  with  a  single  thought,  you  know." 

"  Now  you're  laughing  at  me  —  I  won't  have 
it!" 

"But  Mr.  Tuttle  said  the  other  day  that  the 
Third  House  was  a  national  disgrace,"  put  in 
Evelyn,  quietly. 

"What  did  he  mean  by  that?"  inquired 
Helene,  who  really  didn't  know  how  many 
houses  there  were. 

"Mr.  Tuttle  evidently  doesn't  consider  the 
Third  House  a  joking  matter,"  Evelyn  contin- 
ued. She  was  studying  Brennan  closely. 

"  Oh,  he  was  guying  you  !  That's  just  one 
of  our  little  jokes.  You  see  we  poke  away  at 
each  other  like  a  couple  of  lawyers  in  the  court- 
room, and  then  laugh  over  it  all  in  some  other 
room !  The  Third  House  returns  the  compli- 
ment by  calling  the  second  house  a  band  of  bar- 
room loafers,"  he  ended,  laughing  at  the  mysti- 
fied expression  on  Helene's  face,  who  turned 
toward  Evelyn. 

"Oh,  ain't  these  men  funny?  They  can  call 
each  other  such  names,  and  laugh  and  be  good 


21  JKnnbtr  of  tlje  Stjirir  §QUM.  29 

friends  just  the  same.  Why  is  it  women  can't 
do  that?" 

"  Because  it  ain't  business  with  a  woman  ;  it's 
only  form.  A  group  of  men  can't  all  talk  at 
once  and  interrupt  each  other  and  leave  sen- 
tences unfinished,  because  it  wouldn't  be  busi- 
ness, see  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  see.  There's  something  in  that 
phrase  we  women  don't  understand,"  Evelyn 
said.  "  Something  magical." 

"  Sometimes  it's  anything  but  pleasant.  Now 
I'd  a  good  deal  rather  be  down  at  the  beach 
playing  tennis  than  sweltering  around  the  Capitol 
building." 

"I  thought  you  liked  business?"  put  in 
Helene. 

"  I  do,  but  I  can't  say  I  hone  after  some  kinds." 
Under  the  influence  of  these  clean,  unsmirched 
women  souls,  Brennan  really  felt  a  touch  of 
weariness  with  his  unscrupulous  work.  "The 
trouble  is  a  man  can't  always  say  what  he  will 
do  and  what  he  won't  do.  Success  demands  a 
good  deal  of  a  man." 

"  Papa  thinks  a  great  deal  of  your  work.  I 
heard  him  tell  a  man  that  you  were  his  right- 
hand  man. " 

Brennan  was  thoroughly  in  earnest  now.  "  I 
hope  I  am.  I  like  railroad  management.  Did 


30  21  Jttcmbn*  of  iljt  Sfytri  fjjouse. 

you  ever  think  it's  like  controlling  an  army,"  he 
went  on,  his  eyes  kindling.  "  We  sit  here  in  the 
central  office  like  officers  in  a  tent."  He  leaned 
over  to  map  it  out  on  the  table.  "  We  mass  cars 
here,  hurry  them  up  there  and  hurl  them  on  a 
side-track  there.  There's  an  exhilaration  about 
such  business  that  lifts  it  above  mere  drudgery. 
It  becomes  command." 

Evelyn's  eyes  were  full  of  thought.  "  That's 
what  comes  of  being  a  man — you  can  do 
things. " 

"  You're  almost  like  a  colonel,  then,  ain't 
you?"  Helene  said.  "  You  ought  to  wear  a  uni- 
form—  I  like  them;  they're  lovely." 

''That's  what  we'll  do  soon.  D'ye  know, 
there's  nothing  like  it  for  me."  He  rose  and 
paced  up  and  down  the  room.  "If  I'd  been 
born  before  the  war  I'd  have  been  a  general, 
sure."  He  thrust  out  one  powerful  hand  and 
clutched  the  air  as  if  seizing  a  sword.  "  Power, 
command !  That's  why  I  like  this  railroad 
business.  It's  the  next  thing  to  war." 

"  I  like  your  enthusiasm,"  sighed  Evelyn.  "  I 
wish  we  women  had  —  Mr.  Davis  trusts  you 
fully,  don't  he?" 

"Oh,  perfectly,"  said  Brennan,  with  a  touch 
of  his  habitual  sly  fun.  "  He  puts  into  my  hands 
business  he  wouldn't  do  himself,"  he  added 


31  Jflmfer  of  %  ttjirir  fijou0t.  31 

audaciously.  "  I'm  his  adjutant,  the  fellow  that 
writes  and  carries  the  orders,  you  know.  But 
the  carrying"  of  orders  breeds  the  desire  to  give 
orders;  the  adjutant  always  aspires  to  be  general. 
That's  what  I'm  working  for  besides  my  board 
and  clothes. " 

Brennan  walked  about  excitedly  as  he  talked, 
moved  to  it,  perhaps,  by  the  admiring  gaze  of 
Helene.  Those  who  supposed  they  knew  him 
best  would  have  been  surprised  at  his  sincerity 
of  passion. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Brennan,  I  didn't  know  you  were 
so  ambitious. " 

"To  be  superintendent  of  the  Consolidated  is 
one  of  my  two  great  passions."  As  he  said 
that  he  grew  a  shade  paler,  and  his  eyes  dark- 
ened. 

"What  is  the  other?"  asked  Helene  archly, 
as  if  she  half  guessed  the  truth.  Both  had 
forgotten  Evelyn. 

Brennan  turned  with  a  sudden  impulse,  a  fine 
light  in  his  brown  eyes.  "  Can't  you  guess  ? 
You  are ! " 

"Why,  Tom  Brennan,  what  are  you  saying?" 
She  stared  at  him  with  wide  blue  eyes,  the  color 
coming  into  her  cheeks.  Evelyn  leaned  for- 
ward, studying  his  face  eagerly.  Was  it  Bren- 
nan who  had  won,  and  not  Tuttle  ? 


32  21  Jttembn:  of  %  ®t)iri  §oti0t; 


Brennan  was  scared  at  his  precipitancy. 
"  Don't  mind  me,  Helene  ;  I'm  always  puttin' 
me  foot  in  me  mout'  like  the  wild  Irishman  I 
am.  Don't  you  think  it's  gettin'  warmer?  It 
seems  to  me  the  mercury's  on  the  rise  !  " 

Then  they  all  laughed. 

"Yes,  I  think  it  is  going  to  shower,"  said 
Evelyn  gravely,  from  the  window.  There  was 
an  awkward  pause  —  but  only  for  an  instant. 
Brennan  turned  the  talk  away  to  other  themes. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CAN  THE  SENATE  BE  BOUGHT  ? 

DAVIS  came  in  briskly,  followed  by  his 
attorney,  Fox.  He  was  a  large  man,  with 
short  side-whiskers,  white  as  snow.  His  face 
was  vivid-scarlet  with  the  heat,  and  his  mus- 
tache, close-cut,  bristled  with  the  motion  of  his 
lips.  His  eyes  were  keen  and  restless,  and  his 
voice  fretful,  harsh  and  imperious.  He  looked 
like  a  man  of  great  energy  beginning  to  break. 
He  wore  a  short  velvet  coat,  white  trousers, 
a  rather  low-cut  vest,  and  a  flowing  tie.  A  man 
of  powerful  individuality,  as  was  evident  from 
his  dress. 

"Oh,  papa,  we're  waiting  to  go  home.  You 
know  you  promised  to  drive  us  down  to-day." 

Davis  nodded  at  Miss  Ward,  and  seated  him- 
self hastily  at  his  desk. 

"Yes,  yes,  yes,  but  I  can't  do  it  now,  my 
dear.  I've  got  some  business  —  very  im- 
portant." 

"Oh,  dear!  When  can  you  go?"  Helene 
pouted. 


34  21  itlembo;  of  tlje  Sljtrb 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Davis,  impatiently, 
"In  the  course  of  half  an  hour,  perhaps.  Now, 
you  take  a  drive  up  the  avenue,  and  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  want  to  get  rid  of  us,"  said 
Helene,  in  pretended  anger.  "  Mr.  Brennan, 
will  you  please  help  us  into  the  carnage  ?  " 

"  With  pleasure,"  said  Brennan,  leaping  for- 
ward. There  was  a  gleam  of  coquetry  in 
Helene's  eyes  that  made  his  face  radiant  as 
they  went  out.  Fox  was  a  large  man,  with  a 
full  gray  beard.  His  mustache  was  shaved. 
He  looked  like  a  Methodist  deacon.  His  hair 
was  close-clipped,  and  his  eyes  small  and  blue- 
gray.  He  looked  after  the  young  people  while 
Davis  lighted  his  cigar. 

"Ain't  she  a  little  kittenish  with  Brennan  ?  " 

"  Who  ?  "  said  Davis,  from  the  desk. 

"  Your  daughter —  Helene. " 

Davis  looked  at  him  closely. 

"Are  you  a  fool?"  he  asked,  irascibly. 

Fox  took  a  seat  in  a  chair,  and  softly  exhaled 
a  puff  of  smoke.  His  lips  had  curves  at  the 
corners  like  a  baby's. 

"I  haven't  that  reputation,  Lawrence,"  he 
said,  in  his  oily,  placating  way,  "  and  I  know 
when  a  girl  is  kittenish.  Now,  you  look  out, 
or  that  young  Irishman  '11  be  asking  to  be 


21  JHembtr  of  %  Sljiri  <§cm0e.  35 

a  son-in-law  to  you.  Know  the  symptoms. 
Raised  a  couple  o'  girls  myself." 

"  Oh,  nonsense  !     Tom  knows  his  place." 

Fox  threw  one  leg  over  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

11  Unquestionably.  But  there  is  a  good 
chance  for  disagreement  between  you  and 
Brennan  as  to  just  what  that  place  is.  I've 
told  you  all  along  I  didn't  like  the  idea  of 
letting  that  young  fellow  into  our  business  so 
deep.  It  ain't  safe  —  now,  that's  all." 

"Yes,  you've  told  me,"  said  Davis,  with  a 
scowl  on  his  face.  "But  somebody  had  to  be 
used.  I  couldn't  do  the  work." 

"  Well,  use  a  man  who  cares  more  for  money 
and  —  and  less  for  power.  You  can  handle  a 
man  that  likes  money,  but  you  can't  trust  a  man 
that  likes  power.  Brennan's  too  ambitious." 

Davis  turned  again  to  his  work.  "Oh,  bosh ! 
You  needn't  feel  afraid  of  Tom.  I  know  him 
better'n  you  do.  Why,  I've  practically  raised 
him  right  here  in  the  office." 

When  Fox  spoke  again  it  was  in  a  slow,  sig- 
nificant way  : 

"  I  ain't  afraid  of  any  living  man.  I  don't  fear 
Tom  Brennan,  but  I  begin  to  respect  him." 

The  way  in  which  he  said  this  attracted  and 
held  Davis'  attention.  As  he  returned  Fox's  g-^ze 
Brennan  came  in  smiling  and  took  a  seat  neat 


36  21  jMembn:  of  %  Sljtrir  i§cm0e. 

the  table,  opposite  Davis.  Fox  arose  and  walked 
quietly  up  and  down  behind  them,  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  his  eyes  on  the  floor.  He  was  old 
enough  to  be  venerable,  but  he  was  not. 

"Well,  Tommy,"  said  Davis,  quite  jovially, 
"what's  the  result  of  your  polling  the  senate  to- 
day?" 

"The  bill  is  lost  before  it  is  read.  Every 
amendment  raises  opposition,"  smiled  Bren- 
nan,  the  memory  of  his  last  words  with  Helene 
in  his  mind. 

"  Smoke  'n'  let's  talk  it  over,  my  boy,"  returned 
Davis,  handing  him  a  cigar.  They  lit  cigars, 
and  Davis  watched  him  while  he  puffed  a  few 
times.  "  No  flies  on  that,  my  boy,  eh  ?  Twenty 
dollars  per  hundred.  Trial  box.  Eh?"  Davis 
had  but  lately  taken  to  smoking  "for  his  nerves," 
and  he  amused  himself  by  assuming  an  old 
smoker's  airs. 

"They'll  do,  Governor,"  returned  Brennan, 
puffing  critically.  "  Who  treated  yeh  ?  " 

"  Hear  the  man  ! "  laughed  Davis,  much 
amused  at  the  insinuation.  "  Do  you  think 
I'd" 

'  The  reason  why  I  asked  was  —  they  taste 
very  like  my  latest  box." 

'  You    extravagant    cuss !     You'll    embezzle 
next."     He   became   suddenly   grave.      "  Well, 


21  Ulnnter  of  tlje  Sljtrir  fjouse.  37 

now  about  the  senate  —  what  do  you  propose  to 
do,  Tom  ?  " 

"  Put  in  some  more  money.  What  do  you 
propose  to  do  ? " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Davis,  shortly. 

"Nothing,  eh?" 

''Nothing,  I  tell  you,"  and  then  continued 
irritably:  "  I've  spent  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
already,  and  now  you  —  you  come  to  me  with 
a  scheme  to  practically  buy  the  senate.  Can't  it 
be  carried  some  other  way  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  any  other  way.  Moral  suasion 
is  out  of  date  in  legislation." 

"  Well,  we  must  find  some  other  way.  The 
cussed  charter  ain't  worth  the  risk,  Tom." 

"Ain't  it,  now?"  said  Brennan  jauntily.  "Well, 
you  wait  till  you  find  another  road  building 
along  your  very  route,  and  then  you'll  see 
whether  " 

"It  never'll  be  built,"  Davis  burst  out,  slam- 
ming his  fist  down  on  the  table.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve they  ever  intended  to  build.  They're 
involved  too  deep  with  their  newfangled  motor. 
They  never'll  build,  I  tell  yeh." 

"  Well,  we  can't  tell  that.  And  we  can't  take 
any  risks/' 

"Risks!  Well,  now,  let  me  tell  you,"  said 
Davis,  angrily.  "  I  don't  go  into  this  thing 


38  31  iUembnr  of  ti)t  Sfytri 

till  I'm  forced  to,  and  if  you  don't  use  a  dif- 
ferent tone" 

Fox's  soft,  smooth  voice  insinuated  itself 
into  the  conversation,  like  a  gentle  hand. 

"Easy,  Davis,  easy!  Now  don't  be  rash! 
Don't  make  the  mistake  of  your  life  here ! 
We  can't  afford  "- 

Davis  turned  on  him.  "Who's  the  man  in 
this  thing",  anyhow  ?  Who  represents  the  Con- 
solidated Road?  You  or  I?" 

"  You  do,  General,"  said  Brennan,  easily 
but  dangerously  cool.  "  But  I'm  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  Third  House,  and  I  hold  the 
balance  of  power.  See  ?  Now  look  here.  I 
know  you  can't  afford  not  to  go  into  this  last 
move.  I  tell  you,  if  you  don't,  your  charter  is 
dead  as  the  gates  of  Gehenna.  Now,  if  you 
can't  be  sensible  about  this  thing,  be  as  sen- 
sible as  you  can.  The  Third  House  is  all  right. 
I've  got  the  whole  batch  and  bilin'  of  'em, 
as  the  feller  said,  but  the  senators  must  be 
fixed." 

"  I'll  be  damned  if  I  go  into  such  a  busi- 
ness." Davis  settled  back,  angrily.  "I'm 
done.  Now,  that  settles  it." 

Fox  was  alarmed,  and  struck  in,  persua- 
sively: "Oh,  come,  come,  Davis!  This  is  no 
time  for  you  to  get  thin-skinned.  You  hadn't 


21  itlnnba;  of  tlje  Spirit  $mw.  39 

any  objection  to  buying  the  Third  House. 
Now,  why  kick  about  the  first  or  the  sec- 
ond?" 

Davis  rose  and  walked  nervously  about. 
His  highly  colored  face  grew  mottled  in  his 
excitement. 

"  Because  it's  dangerous.  I  don't  care  for 
the  principle  so  much.  My  duty  is  to  suc- 
ceed. I  believe  we  ought  to  succeed.  No- 
body can  serve  the  public  as  well  as  we  do. 
If  we  don't  buy  'em  I  suppose  somebody  else 
will.  But  it's  a  different  thing  dealing  with 
the  senators.  They're  officials.  It's  a  State- 
prison  offense." 

"No  danger  at  all  to  you,  Governor/'  said 
Brennan.  "  I'll  take  care  of  that.  I  make  all 
the  advances.  They  can't  get  hold  of  you." 

"Certainly/'  said  Fox.  "You  are  to  know 
nothing  about  it ;  Tom  and  I  look  after  the  whole 
matter.  All  is,  you  must  disburse  for  the  com- 
pany—  and  Tom  and  I  will  go  ahead.  You  can 
trust  us." 

Davis  appeared  to  relent,  and  Brennan  struck 
in  jocularly,  with  a  touch  of  the  Irish  dialect : 

"  It's  as  safe  as  smoken'.  Just  give  Sammy 
discretionary  power  over  me,  and  me  dis- 
cretionary power  over  the  Third  House  and  the 


40  21  Jttcmbn*  of  %  Sljiri  £jcm0c. 

senate,  and  we'll  have  the  bill  t'roo  like  a  weeny 
goet  t'roo  a  garrden  fence.  See  ?" 

"  It's  easy  talkinV 

"It's  easy  doen',"  said  Brennan,  lifting  his 
right  hand  into  the  air  and  shaking  it  in  a  pow- 
erful gesture.  "  Give  me  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars,  and  I'll  capture  anny  legislathur  in  this 
great  and  glohrious" 

Davis  turned  on  him  in  distrust.  "A 
hundred  thousand  dollars  ?  It  does  very  well 
for  you  to  talk  money  so  glibly.  You've  got 
nothing  to  lose.  I  begin  to  think  I've  put  too 
much  money  into  the  hands  of  a  man" 

Brennan  interrupted  him  sternly,  something 
ominous  creeping  into  his  voice  : 

"Aisy,  now,  Governor.  Honor  among — 
gentlemen,  y'  know.  You'll  give  me  money 
when  I  want  it,  and  you'll  give  it  without 
scratch  of  pen,  or  down  goes  your  Air  Line  and 
up  bobs  the  star  of  the  Motor  Line.  Under- 
stand? " 

Davis,  unwontedly  irritable,  turned  upon  him 
with  set  teeth.  "Are  you  threatening  me,  you 
cussed  gutter-snipe  ?  Damned  if  I  don't  begin 
to  believe  you  stand  in  with  that  blackmailing 
crew.  If  I  knew  it,  by  heavens,  I'd" 

Fox  again  came  between  them,  with  his  soft, 
soothing  hands  and  that  marvelous  voice. 


21  Jflrabo:  of  tl)e  Sljirir  fioust.  41 

"  Now,  now,  wait  a  moment,  brother.  Now 
you  —  you're  irritated  to-day.  You  agreed  to 
this  yesterday.  You  came  here  to-day  to  go 
into  this  thing.  Now  wait  a  moment,"  he  said, 
stopping  Davis,  who  /was  about  to  speak. 
"  You've  already  bought  off  two  or  three  other 
lines.  We've  passed  your  bill  through  the 
Third  House,  Tommy  and  I — and  the  second 
house  —  we've  carried  it  to  the  senate" 

"  Yes.  Cost  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars  to  do  it,  too.  It's  too  much." 

"It  couldn't  have  been  done  cheaper.  Tom- 
my and  I  have  worked  like  Trojans  to  pull  yeh 
through.  But  suppose  Tommy  has  been  a  little 
extravagant.  See  what  we're  getting — this 
charter  that  is  worth  millions.  I  tell  you,  Law- 
rence, we've  got  to  grab  this  thing  right  now. 
The  dear,  damned  public  are  waking  up  to  the 
fact  that  they  produce  the  value  of  these  fran- 
chises, and  not  we,  and  they're  going  to  charge 
us  for  them." 

Brennan,  who  had  mastered  himself  again, 
resumed  his  jocular  air. 

"  You  bet!  And  there's  Tuttle  opposing 
every  step  and  putting  in  a  bill  to  charge  a 
graduated  increasing  annual  rent  for  street 
privileges.  I  tell  you,  General,  we've  got  to 
strike  right  now." 


42  21  JHembo;  of  tlje  Sfyirlr 

"  What's  the  matter  with  that  man  Tuttle  ?  " 
said  Davis,  his  mind  taking  another  direction 
for  the  moment.  "  Can't  he  be  fixed  ?  " 

"Fixed?  Naw !  He's  got  his  eyes  on  bigger 
boodle." 

"What's  that?" 

"  Congress  and  all  that.  See  ?  He's  doing 
the  scholar  in  politics  act.  P.  P. —  purifying 
politics.  He's  a  victim  of  the  iridescent  dream, 
as  Ingalls  called  it." 

"  I  know  something  else  he's  got  his  eyes  on, 
Tommy,"  said  Fox,  with  a  sly  look  at  Brennan, 
"and  that's "- 

Brennan  leaped  to  his  feet,  divining  that  Fox 
meant  Helene. 

"Stop  that!" 

"  Aha,  Tommy  !     That's  what  tickles  yeh  !  " 

"  Just  keep  your  tongue  off  my  private  affairs, 
will  you  ?" 

Fox  was  vastly  amused  at  his  success  in  irri- 
tating Brennan.  He  shook  in  silent  merriment. 

"  Oh,  all  right,  Tommy !  I  only  wanted  to 
warn  yeh,  that's  all." 

"  You'd  better  warn  him,"  replied  Brennan 
darkly.  Davis  was  impatient  at  all  of  this  side 
conversation,  in  which  he  apparently  had  no 
share. 

"  Come,    come !      If    you    fellers    have    got 


21  fttembtt  of  %  Sljtrir  fyonst.  43 

through  gabbling,  let's  return  to  business. 
What  are  we  to  do  next  ?  Move  on  the  senate? 
I  don't  like  it,  but  if  I" 

"  I  propose  to  move  on  your  nearest  neighbor, 
Ward,"  said  Brennan  with  quiet  decision. 

u  On  Rufus  Ward?" 

"On  Rufus,  of  Schoharie." 

Fox  smiled  in  enjoyment  of  Brennan's  attack. 
"Oh,  Tommy  is  equal  to  anything." 

"On  Rufus  Ward,"  continued  Davis,  dropping 
his  eyes  in  sudden  thought.  "  Do  you  think  you 
can  get  him,  reasonably  ?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"What  do  you  call  reasonably?" 

"Ten  thousand,  say." 

"  Just  now,  yes." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  just  now  ?  " 

"Well,  I  happen  to  know  he  was  in  the  cop- 
per trust  and  got  dropped  with  a  thickening  sud, 
as  the  reporters  say.  He  needs  money  bad." 

"  Is  that  so  ?"  cried  Davis,  eagerly,  pitilessly. 
"  Then  buy  him  — buy  him  !  He's  our  trump  — 
but  don't  waste  money,"  he  added. 

Fox  shook  again  with  silent  laughter. 

"  Ain't  it  curious  that  a  man  can  turn  right 
around  on  himself  an'" 

"Trust  your  Tommy,  General,"  said  Bren- 
nan, "  and  he'll  carry  the  bill." 


44  21  illembrr  of  tlje  Sljirir 

Davis  brought  his  hand  heavily  down  on  the 
desk. 

"Done! — That  is,"  he  exclaimed  hastily, 
"  consult  with  my  lawyer,  there.  He  has  this 
thing  in  hand.  Look  to  him.  He  represents 
me,  you  know." 

"That's  all  right,"  laughed  Brennan.  "I 
understand  your  delicacy."  Then  he  turned 
upon  them  both  with  a  face  transformed  into 
something  stern,  masterful,  almost  ferocious. 
His  words  came  slowly  through  his  set  teeth. 
He  tapped  the  table  softly  with  the  tips  of  his 
fingers  ;  his  chin  was  thrust  out  and  down  in  a 
terrible  gesture. 

"  Gentlemen,  don't  fool  yourselves.  Tom 
Brennan  knows  the  situation  thoroughly.  If  I 
take  all  the  risk,  you  may  gamble  I  get  my  pay 
for  it.  Understand  ?  " 

An  explosion  and  final  settlement  was  post- 
poned by  Helene's  voice  sounding  outside,  and 
then  her  knock  upon  the  door.  "  Come,  poppa, 
haven't  you  got  through  your  business  yet? 
If  you  haven't,  I'm  going  home  alone."  She 
opened  the  door  and  walked  in. 

Davis  rose  hastily,  wiping  the  perspiration 
from  his  purple  face.  He  was  glad  of  the  inter- 
ruption. "  Yes,  yes,  my  dear,  I'm  ready  to  go. 


21  ittnnbcr  of  tl)e  (Spirit  $$mt.  45 

Well,  gentlemen,  I'll  leave  you  to  talk  that 
matter  over  alone." 

As  Davis  bustled  about  collecting-  his  papers, 
Helene  turned  to  Brennan :  "  You'll  come 
down,  won't  you,  and  bring  your  tennis  suit  ?  " 

"  Isn't  it  rather  warm  for  tennis  ?  "  said  Tom, 
in  the  tender  tone  with  which  lovers  make  utter 
commonplaces  infinitely  significant. 

"  Oh,  no,  not  down  by  the  sea.  In  the  even- 
ing it's  just  delightful.  You'll  come  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I'll  come.  I'd  come  if  'twere  to 
me  death,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  that's  nice,"  said  Helene,  with  easy 
appreciation  of  his  intent  to  be  funny.  "  And 
you  must  be  my  partner,  so  I  can  beat.  I  like 
to  be  on  the  side  that  wins." 

"  So  do  I.     I  generally  am." 

"  I  know  it.     That's  the  reason  I "  - 

"  Come,  come  ! "  said  Davis,  with  an  unusual 
touch  of  asperity  in  his  voice.  Brennan  went 
out  with  them.  Fox  watched  them  go,  then 
began  whistling  softly  and  looking  at  the  ceil- 
ing. Brennan  came  back  in  a  few  minutes, 
humming  a  tune,  the  love-light  in  his  pleasant 
brown  eyes. 

"  Rather  complaisant  with  you,  my  boy,"  said 
Fox.  "You've  made  an  impression  there." 


46  21  Itlembn*  of  %  Sljirir 

Brennan  silenced  him  with  a  facile  scowl  and 
quick  wave  of  his  hand. 

"  Leave  that.  You're  too  fresh/'  he  said,  with 
an  insolent  tone.  He  went  to  the  telephone, 
and  rang". 

"  Hello!  Capitol  building  ?  Give  me  Colonel 
Mott.  Is  that  you,  Colonel  ?  Yes.  Well,  did 
you  tell  Ward  I'd  like  to  see  him  ?  All  right ; 
much  obliged.  Come  down  when  you  can  ;  I 
want  to  see  you.  All  right.  Good-by."  Ring- 
ing off,  he  turned  and  said  in  a  cold,  quick, 
business-like  way:  "Ward's  on  his  way  down 
here.  Now,  I  want  this  whole  thing  in  my 
hands.  How  much  money  you  got  with  you  ? 
No  more  checks  in  this  business.  We're  play- 
ing too  big  stakes  now." 

It  was  evident  that  Brennan  was  in  a  bad 
humor,  and  -Fox  did  not  care  to  cross  him.  He 
took  some  packages  of  money  from  his  pocket. 
"  There's  ten  thousand  dollars  in  this  packet, 
and  five  thousand  dollars  in  each  of  these."  He 
handed  one  of  the  smaller  packages  to  Brennan, 
while  he  put  the  other  small  package  back  into 
his  own  pocket. 

"  Now,  I'd  like  a  memorandum  of  some  kind." 

"  You  shall  have  it.  Robert,  write  this : 
'  Received  ten  thousand  dollars  on  account, 
June  zst'" 


21  Jflembn:  of  tl)e  Sljirb  jjouse.  47 

"  No  cipher  signature  ?"  asked  Fox. 

"Nothing  more  than  that.  We're  getting 
into  pretty  close  quarters.  Honor  among 
thieves,  old  boy.  Now,  you  get  out  before 
Ward  comes  in  and  sees  you." 

Fox  delivered  the  larger  package  of  money, 
and  went  quietly  out. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE    GUTTER-SNIPE    MUST    RISE. 

DRENNAN  was  as  much  a  product  of  our 
••— *  society,  and  especially  of  our  government, 
as  the  electric  railway  or  the  telephone,  or  the 
milk  trust.  His  like  is  to  be  seen  in  every  hotel 
corridor.  He  comes  into  the  city  on  the  nine 
o'clock  boat  or  train,  reading  the  report  of  the 
stock  market.  His  normal  attitude  in  his  office 
is  leaning  his  ear  to  the  telephone  or  running 
the  stock  reporter's  ribbon  through  his  hands 
deftly.  He  thinks  in  "  schemes."  His  hands 
clutch  money. 

It  is  not  true  to  say  Brennan  was  conscience- 
less. There  are  things  which  he  could  not  be 
brought  to  do  by  any  pressure.  The  explanation 
is,  that  in  his  world  the  ordinary  ideas  of  morality 
did  not  hold.  He  did  not  consider  himself  a  vil- 
lain, therefore,  and  the  attack  he  was  about  to 
make  on  the  honor  of  a  senator  figured  itself  to 
him  as  a  piece  of  justifiable  diplomacy.  Isolated 
from  the  necessities  of  the  day,  the  act  might 


21  illcmbcr  of  ilje  Sljiri  gotwe.  49 

have  seemed  a  little  "tough,"  but,  as  it  stood, 
it  did  not  give  him  a  twinge. 

He  was  a  product  of  the  necessity  a  poor 
Irish  boy  is  under,  to  be  smart  and  shifty,  in 
order  to  succeed.  He  was  a  bright  child  at 
school,  and  a  bright  boy  in  the  office  of  a  com- 
mission merchant  and  broker.  His  big  bright 
eyes  saw  everything  that  was  going  on,  and  his 
quick  ears  heard  and  returned  the  coarse  ex- 
pressions, and  the  cynical  philosophy  as  well; 
which  mark  such  places. 

It  could  not  have  made  of  him  other  than  a 
bold,  quick  and  altogether  able  man  of  expedi- 
ents. He  had  caught  the  eye  of  Davis  a  dozen 
years  back,  and,  having  taken  him  into  his  office 
and  finding  him  efficient,  and  (as  he  believed) 
trustworthy,  the  great  Railway  Duke  had,  year 
by  year,  enlarged  his  confidence  till  no  man  in 
his  employ  had  the  same  intimate  knowledge  of 
his  most  private  affairs. 

At  his  suggestion  Brennan  studied  law,  and 
he  was  an  adroit  lawyer  when  Davis  began  to 
intrust  to  him  the  important  matter  of  lobbying 
in  the  interests  of  the  road.  For  several  years, 
therefore,  Brennan  had  attended  to  the  work 
of  suppressing  unwelcome  legislation,  and  the 
equally  important  work  of  "inducing"  legislation 
which  was  desirable.  He  had  thus  come  to 


so  21  itlembn*  of  tlje  ®l)irb  §ou0e. 

know  everybody,  and  especially  to  know  any 
shady  part  of  their  lives,  the  knowledge  of  which 
would  add  to  his  control  over  them  in  case  of 
need. 

He  went  about  all  this  as  a  skillful  chess-player 
would  plan  for  future  moves.  He  had  no  malice, 
and  the  moral  consideration  had  no  place  with 
him.  He  knew  Senator  Ward's  vulnerable  spot, 
and  he  aimed  his  spear  there  as  remorselessly  as 
Hagan  upon  Siegfried,  but  without  envy  or 
rage. 

After  Fox  went  out,  he  approached  the  young 
clerk  in  the  outer  office  —  Robert,  his  half- 
brother. 

"Rob,  I'm  expecting  Senator  Ward.  Of 
course,  you  won't  be  able  to  see  him,  and  you'll 
be  busy  and  won't  hear  him."  A  faint  smile 
lighted  Robert's  eyes.  "  I'm  going  to  take  the 
old  man  into  camp,"  Brennan  added.  "  You 
know  his  little  weakness.  All's  fair  in  love  and 
—  politics."  He  broke  out  into  a  song. 

Robert  went  back  to  his  work.  He  was 
slightly  deaf,  which  exaggerated  his  naturally 
cold-blooded,  methodical  nature.  He  had  not 
been  secured  because  of  this  defect,  but  it  was  an 
admirable  failing,  as  Davis  recognized.  While 
he  had  Tom's  keen,  analytical  mind,  he  had  too 
little  emotion  to  be  ambitious  :  his  deafness 


31  JtUmOer  of  tl)£  Sljtri  $oti0e.  51 

separated  him  at  an  early  age  from  young  peo- 
ple, and  he  lived  a  secluded,  bookish  life,  when 
out  of  the  office. 

The  telephone  bell  rang,  and  Brennan  went 
to  it.  "  Hello!  Who  is  it?  Oh,  it's  you,  old 
boy  —  Horse  race?  —  To-day?  —  Not  much  — 
Too  hot — Hot,  hot,  hot!  —  No  race  in  mine  — 
What  ?  —  I  don't  care  if  it  were  Sunol  and 
Wilkes  —  Is,  eh?  —  Charlie's  goin',  of  course. 
Oh,  certainly  —  Who  are  the  girls?  —  Oh,  you 
infernal  reprobates.  Haven't  you  got  any  consci- 
entious scruples  ?  Scruples  —  Con-^rz-entious 
scru-ples?  No,  I  shouldn't  say  you  had  ! — No 
use  !  —  Oh,  go  chase  yourself !  —  I  say  can't  go, 
and  that's  all  —  Oh,  go  take  a  walk!  —  don't 
bother  me  about  that  —  You  told  me  that  before 
—  Yes,  you  did — The  day  we  went  out — Oh, 
go  to  —  Good-by." 

As  he  turned  from  the  telephone  he  con- 
fronted Senator  Ward,  who  had  entered.  "Ah, 
good  afternoon,  Senator !  Glad  to  see  you ! 
Sit  down.  Pretty  hot,  ain't  it?" 

"  Very  warm.  Don't  think  I  can  stay,"  replied 
Ward,  who  was  a  tall  man  with  a  long  gray 
beard.  He  had  a  gentle  face  and  a  small  round 
head. 

"Oh,  you  must!  How  is  Mrs.  Ward  and 
Evelyn  ?  " 


52  21  iJlember  of  tl)e  Sl/trt  <§ou0e. 

Ward  replied  a  little  stiffly  :  "Very  well, 
thank  you." 

"  Sit  down,  Senator,  and  have  a  glass  of  cham- 
pagne. Just  off  the  ice.  Cold  as  Greenland." 
He  poured  a  large  glass  for  him,  and  extended 
it  close  to  his  face,  as  if  to  make  the  sight  a»d 
smell  irresistible. 

Ward  took  it  hesitatingly.  "  Thank  you  ! 
The  heat  seems  to  take  hold  of  me  this  year 
more  than  ever."  He  seemed  to  be  already 
flushed  with  drinking,  as  Brennan's  quick  eye 
perceived. 

"  I  saw  your  daughter  to-day  —  lovely  as  a 
June  rose.  Take  a  cigar ! " 

Ward  refused  the  cigar,  but  sat  down  ten- 
tatively in  his  chair. 

"  Yes,  she's  in  town  to-day.  But  never 
mind  family  affairs,"  he  said,  with  a  change  of 
tone.  "  What's  the  business  you  want  to  see  me 
about?" 

"Ah,  sure  !  don't  plunge  into  that  till  you  git 
y'r  breath  and  cool  off  a  little,"  laughed  Bren- 
nan,  with  a  touch  of  his  Irish  blarney.  "Let  me 
fill  up  y'r  glass.  Oh,  it's  quite  like  watther, 
Senator." 

Ward  ceased  to  protest  and  drank  again, 
while  Brennan  went  on :  "  It's  mighty  coolin'  on 
the  tongue.  It's  a  day  like  this  makes  a  man 


51  iltembn:  of  tljc  ®t)irb  fytmzt.  53 

want  to  be  built  like  a  crockery-crate,  so  the 
wind  'ud  blow  troo  him.  How's  business  be- 
neath the  Granite  Goddess,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  Not  much  doing  these  hot  days,"  replied 
Ward,  getting  more  at  his  ease. 

"  When  do  you  think  the  Consolidated  bill 
will  come  up  ?" 

"Possibly  on  Monday  —  by  Tuesday,  sure." 

"  You're  one  of  the  opposition  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Ward,  with  a  touch  of  his  sena- 
torial manner.  "  I  think  it's  time  we  began  to 
hedge  the  power  of  these  great  monopolies." 

Brennan  took  an  easy  position  in  his  chair. 
"  On  general  principles  that's  true,  and  I'm  with 
you,  but  in  this  particular  case,  it  seems  to  me, 
it  would  be  a  great  benefit  to  the  public  to  have 
the  charter  granted  to  us.  Take  another  glass. 
Try  this  stuff  of  Teck's.  I  think  it's  pretty 
good."  He  poured  another  glass  and  extended 
it  as  he  glibly  went  on  :  "  No  other  corporation 
can  build  a  road  in  the  same  time.  No  other 
can  give  the  same  cheap  fares  and  rates,  because 
they  ain't  got  the  connection.  Your  idea's  good, 
but  the  time  ain't  ripe  for  it.  When  the  State's 
ready  to  buy  our  lines,  we'll  be  ready  to  sell  — 
at  a  reasonable  figure,  of  course.  But  the  time 
ain't  ripe." 

"  That's   true    enough,   but  we  mus'  sacrifice 


54  21  Jilcmbo;  of  tlje  $ljirb  Jjotw*. 

something  for  principle,"  said  Ward,  with  a 
touch  of  elaborate  gravity,  which  evidenced  his 
growing  intoxication.  "  The  public  demand  " 

''The  public!"  exclaimed  Brennan,  in  vast 
disgust.  "Good  God!  You  go  ahead,  vote 
against  the  Consolidated,  and  when  a  man  has 
to  pay  ten  cents  where  he  might  have  paid  but 
five,  or  travels  an  extra  hour,  you'll  find  out 
how  much  the  public  care  for  principle  !  Prin- 
ciple ?  The  damned  public  wouldn't  know  a 
principle  with  a  bell  on  it ! " 

"Come,  come!  Tha's  too  hard,  Tom.  The 
public  know  'nough  " 

"Enough  to  demand  that  its  legislature  shall 
bear  all  mistakes.  They'll  demand  a  bill  they 
don't  see  the  effects  of,  and  then  down  their  rep- 
resentatives for  carrying  out  their  will.  The 
public  be  damned  !  It  ain't  business  to  follow 
their  whims." 

" Tha's  true,  in  a  measure."  His  eyelids  fell 
over  his  eyes  and  clung  together  for  just  a 
perceptible  instant.  Brennan  saw  that  the  time 
was  come  to  make  his  attack.  He  leaned  over 
and  tapped  the  senator  on  the  knee.  "Well, 
now,  to  come  to  business.  I  hear  things  are  not 
going  well  with  yeh,  Senator." 

"  Who  —  who  —  told  yeh  ?"  said  Ward,  rous- 
ing up. 


21  Jttembo:  of  tlje  ®l)irir  §ou0e.  55 

"  Mrs.  Ward  just  hinted  it.  Now,  if  I  can  be 
of  any  use  to  you,  Senator — you  know  Mrs. 
Ward  considers  me  an  old  friend." 

Ward  winked  slowly.     His  voice  was  thick. 

"  Well,  t-to  tell  the  truth,  Tom,  things  are 
goin'  bad.  I've  got  raise  six'een  thousan'by  the 
firs'  of  July,  and  it's  worryin'  me.  Yeh  see,  I 
wen'  in'o  copper." 

"  I  understand.  Well,  now,  why  don't  you 
let  me  step  in  here  and  help  you  out  ?  " 

"D'ye  mean  tha',  Tommy  ?" 

"  Every  word  of  it,  Senator." 

"  You're  a  brick,  Tom.  Tha's  what  y'  are, 
but  I  can't  give  you  any  s'curity." 

"Oh,  never  mind  about  that.  I'll  let  you 
have  ten  thousand  in  cash  to-day." 

"  You  will.     On  w-what  conditions  ?  " 

"On  condition  you  help  me  a  little." 

"How's  that,  Tommy?     I  don't  un'erstan'." 

"By  not  working  against  the  Consolidated 
bill." 

Ward  stared  at  him  in  silence,  slowly  revolv- 
ing Brennan's  words  in  his  mind.  Then  he 
rose  unsteadily,  buttoning  his  coat  around  his 
spare  figure,  in  the  attempt  at  dignified  indigna- 
tion. "  D'ye  mean  to  bribe  me  ?  If  yeh 
do"- 

"No,    no,    no!      Sit   down,    sit   down!      No 


56  21  Jttembrr  of  %  (Btyrir 

bribe  about  it.  Let  me  explain."  He  put  his 
hand  on  the  Senator's  shoulder  ;  but  it  was  his 
voice,  rather  than  touch,  that  caused  the  old 
man  to  yield  and  seat  himself  again.  "  That's 
one  condition.  Because,  you  see,  Senator,  I'm 
interested  in  the  road.  You  didn't  know  that, 
of  course  ?  " 

"  Wouldn't  'a'  made  any  difference.  The 
principle  " 

"  But  that's  only  one  condition,  and  the  one 
I  care  least  about,"  went  on  Brennan,  softly  and 
persuasively.  "You  see,  Senator,  I  —  I  admire 
your  daughter  very  much,  and  Mrs.  Ward  has  — 
seemed  like  a  mother  to  me.  Now,  you  see 
why  I'm"— 

"  Is  tha'  so,  Tom  ?  "  He  was  surprised  and 
helpless  before  such  graceless  lying. 

''That's  so,  that's  so!  I  simply  can't  stand 
by  and  see  them  suffer.  It  ain't  right."  He 
took  a  package  from  his  pocket.  "  Now,  here's 
ten  thousand  dollars  in  cash.  I'll  lay  it  right 
here  in  this  drawer,  and  step  out  into  the  other 
office  a  moment.  I  don't  give  it  to  you.  I  don't 
even  lend  it.  All  I  ask  you  to  do  is  to  with- 
draw your  opposition  and  speak  a  good  word 
for  me  when  the  time  comes.  You're  perfectly 
free  to  do  as  you  like,  you  understand  ?  "  Ward 
was  about  to  protest.  "  Hold  on,  now  !  Don't 


21  JUcmbcr  of  tl)t  Sljirb  §onsc.  57 

be  rash.  Think  it  over,  and  if  you  need  more 
to  pull  you  out  of  your  hole,  draw  on  me  as  on 
a  son." 

Ward  pulled  himself  together  with  a  herculean 
effort,  and  buttoned  up  his  coat  tightly  around 
him  to  the  last  button.  "  See  here,  Brennan, 
y-you  can'  talk  t'  me  like  that.  I'm  not  tha' 
kind  of  a  man.  No  ten  thousand  dollars  can 
buy  me." 

"  I'm  not  buying  you.  Don't  you  go  off  half- 
cocked!" 

"Well,  my  vote  —  it's  the  same  thing,  'xactly 
the  same  thing." 

"No,  it  ain't.  Now,  hold  on.  Look  at  this 
thing  sensibly.  The  case  is  this  :  I  ask  your 
vote  for  a  bill.  It's  a  good  bill,  you'll  acknowl- 
edge that  —  nothing  the  matter  with  the  bill. 
Now,  you've  been  opposed.  Possibly  you've 
been  wrong.  A  change  of  your  vote  is  a  little 
thing  to  you — a  great  thing  to  us.  Here  we 
stand  asking  a  franchise  which  is  vitally  neces- 
sary to  the  people." 

"It  belongs  to  the  people."  When  he  began 
to  argue  Brennan  felt  sure  of  him. 

"  No,  it  don't.  It  belongs  to  us  if  we  can  get 
it.  The  people  can't  use  it,  only  through  us. 
Now,  be  reasonable  ;  give  us  your  vote" 

Ward   burst    forth    in    a  weak   explosion    of 


58  21  iJlembn:  of  ti)t  Sijirir  Cjons*. 

wrath.  "  By  heavens,  I'll  go  to  the  wall  'fore 
I  take  a  bribe." 

There  was  a  dangerous  pause,  during  which 
Brennan  gazed  straight  into  the  Senator  s  eyes. 
A  look  came  upon  his  face  that  took  all  the 
youth  and  good  nature  out  of  it.  "  Go  to  the 
wall,  eh?" 

"Yes,  sir.     Better  die  honest." 

"And  ruin  your  family  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Ward  ;  but  he  was  visibly 
weakening.  "  My  family  rather  have  me" 

"  Going  to  the  wall  ain't  so  funny  as  you 
imagine.  So  you  kick  against  my  offer,  do 
yen  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  I  do.  Of  course,  if  I  could  con- 
sis  en'ly" 

"And  ten  thousand  dollars  is  no  object,  eh  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  —  nor  fifty  thousand." 

"All  right,  sir."  He  leaned  over  and  spoke 
something  in  a  low  voice  to  Ward,  who  glared 
at  him  rigid  with  fear  and  shame.  "  Oh,  it  was 
nothing  criminal,  Senator;  but  it  would  make  a 
spicy  column  in  the  newspaper,  all  the  same." 

"God  A'mighty,  Tom  —  you  wouldn't  —  who 
told" 

Brennan  faced  him  with  a  set  look  in  his  eye. 
"  Never  mind  where  I  learned  it.  Mebbe  the 
hackman  told  me.  It's  my  business  to  know  all 


21  Jflcmbcr  of  tlje  SIjtrir  $ou0e.  59 

such  things.  That's  the  way  a  man  succeeds  in 
this  world.  Publish  it  ?  You  bet  your  life  I'll 
publish  every  detail.  I  tell  you,  I'm  going  to 
have  this  bill  —  fair  means  if  possible,  any  means 
if  necessary.  That's  business.  Now,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  ?  Now,  don't  swear  and  make 
a  fool  of  yourself.  Think  it  all  over  carefully." 

"Don't  —  don't  press  me,  Tom.  Give  me  a 
little  time." 

Brennan  saw  that  he  had  gained  his  point, 
and  was  ready  to  yield  one.  "Certainly,  Sena- 
tor, only  the  bill  comes  up  soon." 

"A-all  right,  Tom.  But  —  it's  a  serious  thing." 
Davis  looked  in  from  the  outer  office,  unseen  by 
Ward,  who  had  turned  toward  Brennan. 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Senator;  you're  too  old- 
fashioned  about  these  things.  It's  just  like  find- 
ing something.  Nothing  at  all  after  you  get 
used  to  it.  Now,  I'll  depend  on  you." 

"Well,  I'll  see,"  said  Ward,  going  unsteadily. 

"All  right.  I'll  see  you  to-morrow.  Good- 
by  !  "  He  accompanied  the  Senator  to  the  door 
of  the  inner  office  ;  then  returned  to  his  desk, 
leaving  Robert  to  see  him  to  the  elevator. 
When  Davis  entered  from  Fox's  office  he  was 
seated  at  the  table,  with  his  hat  on,  a  cigar  in 
his  mouth,  writing  busily.  As  Davis  spoke,  he 
looked  over  his  shoulder  with  an  ominous 


60  31  Jttcmbn*  of  tlje  ®l)trir  <§ou0e. 

change  of  manner.  "Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Gover- 
nor? Thought  you'd  gone  home." 

"  I  started  to,  but  I  met  Binney,  and  the  fact 
is,  I'm  worried.  I  want  to  have  a  word  in  pri- 
vate on  this  thing." 

Brennan's  smile  still  dimpled  his  smooth 
cheek,  but  the  look  in  his  eyes  belied  it,  as  the 
smile  of  the  pugilist  belies  his  lowering  eye- 
brows and  clenched  fists.  His  voice  had  a  tone 
in  it  that  Davis  had  never  heard  before.  "  Well, 
now,  I'm  glad  you  come  back.  I  want  a  word 
\v\\hyou"  he  said,  with  a  challenging  inflection 
in  his  voice.  "  You  and  I've  got  to  come  to  an 
understanding  on  this  thing,"  he  added,  wheeling 
his  chair  about  and  facing  Davis,  his  elbow  on 
the  table.  "  I'm  a  gutter-snipe,  but  I  don't  want 
it  rubbed  in." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Sit  down  an'  I'll  tell  you  just  what  I  mean," 
said  Brennan,  in  a  tone  that  destroyed  all  differ- 
ence in  position  between  them.  "You  took  me 
into  this  office  ten  years  ago,  and  you've  given 
me  a  chance  to  rise.  I'm  grateful,  etc.,  etc.,  but 
I'm  also  aware  that  I  give  more  than  value  re- 
ceived. To-day  I'm  your  confidential  man,  your 
lobbyist  and  attorney  at  five  thousand  a  year, 
and  —  perkesites.  But  the  day  has  come  for  a 
rise.  The  gutter-snipe  must  rise." 


21  Ufcmbcr  of  tl)e  ®!)irir  djouse.  61 

Davis  looked  at  him,  his  face  purpling  with 
rage.  He  thought  he  measured  Brennan's  in- 
tention. "Well,  didn't  I  agree  to  your  own 
proposition  ?  " 

"  Yes,  to  all  the  proposition  I  cared  to  state 
in  the  presence  of  a  third  party.  You're  per- 
fectly aware  that  we're  engaged  in  what  the  laws 
of  the  United  States  call  a  crime  " 

"Good  God,  man!  Of  course  I  know  it!" 
Davis  burst  forth  irritably.  "  That's  the  reason 
I  " He  stopped  abruptly. 

"  Oh,  go  on  !  Don't  hesitate  !  "  said  Bren- 
nan,  with  ferocious  irony.  "That's  the  reason 
you  stay  out  of  it  and  send  me  into  it.  Well,  as 
I  say,  I'm  ready  to  go,  but  I  want  pay  for  it." 

"Well,  well!  Make  your  terms.  I  suppose 
that's  what  all  this  leads  to.  How  much  do  you 
want  ? " 

Brennan  straightened  up  and  looked  him  square 
in  the  face.  His  tone  was  low,  but  inflexible. 
"  I  want  to  be  raised  from  the  humble  but  lucra- 
tive position  of  member  of  the  Third  House  to  the 
distinction  of  being  a  member  of  the  house  of 
Davis  &  Company." 

"What's  that?"  demanded  Davis  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  I  want  to  be  recognized  as  a  stockholder  in 
the  Consolidated  Road." 


62  21  ittembo:  of 

"  Why,  man,  that's  out  of  the  question  !" 

"  No,  it  ain't.  It's  easy  to  Lawrence  B.  Davis. 
But  that  ain't  all.  I  want  to  be  general  superin- 
tendent of  this  road,  and  son-in-law  to  its 
president." 

Davis  leaped  up,  his  face  mottled  with  blood. 
"What?  Why,  you  infernal  fool!  You're 
crazy  ! " 

Brennan's  voice  dropped  a  note  lower,  and 
became  hard  as  iron.  "  Never  saner,  and  never 
more  in  earnest,  either.  I  know  what  I  want, 
and  how  to  get  it.  The  gutter-snipe  must  rise." 

"You  —  you  —  you  —  talk  like  an  idiot." 

"  I'll  make  a  good  superintendent  to  you/' 

"  I'll  see  you  cold  first,"  stormed  Davis. 

The  smile  faded  out  of  Brennan's  face,  and 
his  half-closed  eyes  had  a  sinister  glare.  "  I'll 
see  you  in  State's  prison  last,  if  you  don't  keep 
your  temper  and  talk  sense." 

"  You  don't  mean  " 

"  I  mean  just  that,"  Brennan  replied,  coldly 
malignant.  "  I'll  send  you  to  hell,  if  necessary, 
and  I  can  do  it.  I'm  too  deep  in  this  thing  to 
be  left  out  of  the  calculations." 

Davis  looked  at  him  in  silence,  his  face  filled 
with  something  like  fear  and  astonishment. 
"Oh,  bosh!"  he  said,  recovering  himself. 
"  You  ain't  got  any  hold  on  me.  Your  word 


21  member  of  tlje  (fttytrb  §otm.  63 

won't  count  against  mine.  You'd  only  damn 
yourself." 

"Try  it  and  see,  Governor.  Remember, 
you're  a  father.  I'd  hate  to  antagonize  my 
father-in-law." 

"  You  damned  scoundrel  !  "  shouted  Davis, 
trembling  with  rage.  "  You're  not  fit  to  touch 
her." 

"Well,  you're  not  exactly  a  monument  of 
virtue,"  sneered  Brennan.  "You  may  disgrace 
me  yet/' 

The  two  men  stood  facing  each  other  in 
silence,  Brennan  smiling  easily  again,  Davis 
struggling  for  control.  His  hands  trembled  as 
he  gathered  some  papers  off  his  desk  and 
turned  to  face  Brennan  again,  whose  smile  en- 
raged him  almost  beyond  measure.  His  hands 
shook.  "I've  a  good  mind  to  smash  your 
face,"  he  snarled  at  last,  through  his  set  teeth. 
His  rage  was  not  because  of  Brennan's  villainy, 
but  because  it  was  directed  toward  him. 

"Don't  be  rash!  Take  more  time  to  think 
of  it.  I'm  a  good  soldier,  General,  but  when  I 
scale  a  barricade  and  bring  back  a  flag,  I  want 
promotion,  not  wages.  The  gutter-snipe  must 


rise." 


Davis   went    silently    toward    the  door.     His 
face  was  pale  now,  and  set  like  granite,  in  anger. 


64  21  iflcmbo:  of  tlje  ftljirb  Cjou0e. 

He  spoke  through  his  set  teeth.  "  I'll  answer 
you  to-morrow,  you  miserable  " 

With  a  sudden  impulse,  Brennan  threw  him- 
self against  the  door,  his  face  grown  ferocious, 
his  voice  terrible. 

"By  God!  you'll  answer  me  now  —  right  now, 
before  you  go  out  of  this  door  !  D'ye  un'er- 
stand?  You've  worked  this  thing  carefully,  but 
I  haven't  studied  your  methods  for  nothing. 
You  think  I've  got  no  hold  on  you,  eh?" 

"Open  that  door!"  yelled  Davis,  impotently 
furious. 

"I'll  open  another  door  for  yeh,"  replied 
Brennan,  leveling  his  finger  at  him,  as  if  he  pre- 
sented a  revolver.  "I  can  prove  that  you  paid, 
on  May  28th,  five  thousand  dollars  to  Senator 
Hoi  "- 

"You  lie  !     You  know  nothing  about" 

"Don't  I?  I  know  enough  to  publish  your 
name  in  headlines  an  inch  deep  to-morrow 
morning,  and,  by  the  eternal  heavens,  I'll  do  it 
if  you  don't  come  to  terms." 

The  old  man  was  seized  with  a  sudden  weak- 
ness. The  set  eyes  and  the  inflexible  voice  of 
the  younger  man  shook  him  strangely.  In  the 
pause  which  followed  he  felt  he  had  met  his 
master.  "What  do  you  want?"  he  said, 
hoarsely. 


21  Utnnbo:  of  tlje  Sljtrir  goim.  65 

''I've  told  you.     Is  it  peace   or  war?" 

As  Davis  stood  there,  with  clenched  and 
restless  hands,  the  blood  went  out  of  his  face, 
leaving"  him  white  almost  as  paper.  When  he 
spoke,  his  voice  was  husky  with  fear  and  rage. 
"  Peace  !  Don't  be  a  fool !  " 

.  Brennan  opened  the  door,  Davis  went  out, 
and  Brennan  followed,  saying,  in  a  breezy 
tone  :  "  Well,  good  evening,  Governor.  Don't 
worry  about  this  at  all.  I'll  see  that  it  goes 
through."  He  closed  the  door,  went  to  the 
table,  and  poured  out  some  liquor  with  hands 
that  trembled.  As  he  took  his  seat  in  a  chair 
opposite  his  brother,  he  said  :  "  Holy  smoke  ! 
It's  tough  on  the  nerves.  I'll  have  to  go  to 
Europe  soon  for  my  health." 

"  What  did  you  say  ?  " 

"I  said  I  guessed  I'd  go  over  to  Hilliard's 
awhile,"  Brennan  replied,  rising  to  go. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  THIRD  HOUSE  IN  SESSION. 

PHE  Milliard  House  lobby  and  bar-room  was 
*  filled  with  a  throng  of  men  whose  easy  at- 
titudes, unconstrained  laughter  and  absorbed 
attention  upon  each  other's  words  denoted  that 
this  was  their  well-accustomed  rendezvous  after 
the  sessions  had  closed  for  the  day. 

The  high-salaried  bartender  served  the  drinks 
and  sponged  the  bar  with  smiling  and  yet  elab- 
orate ease.  Everybody  knew  him,  and  his  chaff 
was  highly  relished  by  the  distinguished  law- 
makers who  came  and  went  along  the  polished 
glass  rod.  The  whole  atmosphere  was  jovial, 
unconstrained,  careless,  and  full  of  vitality. 

All  the  men  were  well  dressed  and  freshly 
barbered  —  many  of  them  were  handsome  in  a 
hard,  superficial  way  —  most  of  them  were  un- 
der forty,  though  here  and  there  a  man  of  fifty 
shook  his  purpling  face  and  close-clipped  pink 
and  white  head  as  some  younger  man  told  a 
"rich  joke."  On  most  faces  the  swollen  veins 
suggested  high  living,  which  the  increasing  slope 


66 


21  JHtmbo:  of  tl)e  Sfyirir  §otJ0e.  67 

of  the  waistcoat  showed  to  a  certainty.  In  their 
eyes  an  insatiate  lust  lay  like  a  half-concealed 
ember. 

Pearl-gray  plug-  hats,  dangling  gold  chains, 
snug,  light-colored  Prince  Albert  suits,  and  gay 
neckties  were  the  common  dress.  Their  hands, 
adorned  with  rings  set  with  bizarre  stones,  grace- 
fully raised  and  removed  cigars,  and  the  point  of 
a  story  often  came  after  a  significant  wait,  while 
the  little  finger  knocked  the  ashes  from  the  end  of 
the  daintily  extended  cigar. 

Many  of  the  men  were  exchange  gamblers,  gen- 
tlemanly sellers  of  mining  stock,  men  of  expe- 
dients. Others  were  legislators  of  the  purchas- 
able sort  —  or,  at  least,  of  the  sort  capable  of  being 
influenced.  Some  were  commercial  travelers  — 
knowing  fellows,  who  never  forget  an  acquaint- 
ance, nor  how  to  use  him  —  and  percolating 
through  this  loosely  grouped  throng  were  the 
members  of  the  Third  House,  the  unknown  law- 
makers of  the  land. 

These  were  not  distinguishable  by  dress,  only 
by  manner.  They  were  invariably  the  centers  of 
small  groups  of  listening  legislators,  talking 
eagerly  with  emphatic  gesticulations  of  the  right 
elbow,  while  they  mapped  out  on  the  palm  of  the 
left  hand  the  scheme  which  they  believed  "  ought 
to  go  through." 


68  31  Jttcmbrr  of  tlje  Sl)trb 

Here  a  row  of  three  were  leaning  upon  the  bar, 
while  an  extremely  handsome  man  of  large  frame 
gave  a  mysterious  order  to  the  barkeeper.  Over 
in  the  corner  a  short  man  in  a  cutaway  coat 
laughed  up  at  a  group  looking  down  at  him,  his 
broad  face,  with  mutton-chop  whiskers,  making 
him  look  like  a  well-fed  English  curate.  As  one 
passed  by  a  group  of  uproarious  laughers  he 
caught  a  few  words  which  told  him  they  were 
rehearsing  the  story  of  a  senator  who  was  taken 
home  from  a  certain  house,  "  all  his  money  gone 
and  his  false  teeth  lost ! " 

Another  group,  as  evidently  composed  of  the 
third  and  second  houses,  was  discussing  the  bill 
for  the  division  of  the  town  of  Bradford,  an  act 
in  the  interests  of  the  tax-dodgers,  and  there 
was  not  wanting  here  and  there  a  scowling 
brow  as  some  man  rehearsed  a  grievance. 

The  business  of  the  bar  and  the  cafe  adjoining 
filled  the  place  with  smell,  as  the  ripple  of  talk 
did  with  sound,  beneath  which  the  constant  click 
of  heels  and  whisking  scrape  of  soles  came 
unceasingly  as  they  came  and  went  from  the 
lobby  to  the  bar  and  back  to  the  lobby  again. 

The  scene  was  essentially  American  and 
modern,  Radbourn  said  to  Tuttle  as  he  sat  in  the 
cafe',  which  opened  off  the  lobby. 

"The  Third  House  in  session/'  said  Tuttle. 


$  Jtfembo;  of  tlje  Sfyirir  §ott0*.  69 

"  Discussing  your  next  move,  no  doubt." 

"  Yes,"  said  Tuttle,  with  a  faint  smile  ;  "  I  sup- 
pose I'm  the  cause  of  some  of  that  talk  out 
there/'  He  sat  at  a  table  near  the  door,  with 
his  back  to  the  table.  "  That's  the  reason  I 
prefer  to  sit  with  my  back  to  the  wall.  My 
work  in  getting"  a  joint  committee  appointed 
don't  alarm  them  much,  but  they  don't  love  me 
any  better  for  it,  I  imagine." 

"  I  understand.  And  that  is  your  Third 
House?" 

"  Yes.  Do  you  see  a  white-whiskered  man, 
with  a  short  coat  and  gay  necktie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  how  can  you  see  him?" 

"'In  my  mind's  eye,  Horatio/  Well,  he's  an 
ex-senator.  Next  to  Tom  Brennan  one  of  the 
strongest  men  in  the  lobby.  You  see,  the  more 
of  a  political  pull  a  man  has,  the  more  valuable 
he  is  as  a  member  of  the  Third  House.  He's  a 
Republican,  but  that  don't  matter  in  the  lobby. 
Party  lines  don't  count  for  much." 

"No;  a  vote's  a  vote  here.  Magnificent  use 
to  put  suffrage  to  —  eh  ?  " 

"  Splendid  !  Do  you  see  a  short  man  with 
a  broad  face,  mutton-chop  whiskers  ?  " 

"  I  did  a  moment  ago  ;  he's  out  of  range/' 

"  Well,  that's  Bob  Merritt,  ex-mayor  of  Sun- 
cook,  ex-representative  from  Suncook  County, 


70  #  ifttembn:  of  %  (Kljiri  <§cm0e. 

and  so  it  goes.  You  wouldn't  think,  to  look  and 
hear  that  merry  group,  that  they  were  criminals 
and  liable  to  incarceration." 

"  They  probably  differ  with  you  about  crimi- 
nality. They  consider  themselves  jolly  good 
fellows.  They  are  to  be  found  in  every  great 
hotel  lobby  in  America.  I've  studied  them 
closely  —  no  doubt  you  have.  I  don't  imagine 
that  they  keep  awake  nights  thinking  of  their 


sins." 


"I  should  say  riot,"  laughed  Tuttle.  "Why, 
take  that  very  Tom  Brennan  —  I  meet  him  in 
private  life,  and  I  can't  help  liking  the  man 
personally.  At  the  same  time  I  know  he's  just 
like  those  jolly  fellows  —  clasps  hands  on  an 
infamous  bargain  with  the  same  smile  and 
cordial  word  he'd  use  in  extending  a  cigar- 


case." 


"  What  appals  me,  Tuttle,  especially,  is  the 
moral  atmosphere  they  live  in,  which  destroys 
well-meaning  young  legislators  as  malaria  at- 
tacks and  undermines  the  Northern  man  as  he 
enters  the  swamps  of  the  South.  Many  a  well- 
meaning  lawyer  or  merchant  comes  into  this 
political  world,  intending  to  serve  his  people  and 
not  monopolists,  but  he  loses  his  grip  on  right 
and  justice.  My  four  years  in  Washington 
showed  me  that.  To  many  men,  justice  and 


31  Jtlrmber  of  %  Spirit  $cm0e.  71 

truth  are  not  convictions  of  their  own  —  they 
take  moral  color  from  their  surroundings  —  and 
this  world  of  the  trickster  is  fatal  to  moral 
health." 

"Yet  they're  happy/'  mused  Tuttle,  "  and 
they  succeed  —  that's  the  demoralizing"  thing. 
Business  is  like  it — success  is  so  much  easier 
along  conscienceless  lines."  His  face  grew  sad. 
"  I  never  could  have  succeeded  as  Brennan 
has,  alone,  unaided,  uneducated.  He'll  go  to 
the  top,  if  he  don't  get  into  the  hands  of  the  law 
—  and  he'll  do  it  in  his  own  unscrupulous  way, 
too,  that's  the  worst  of  it.  It  makes  me  de- 
spondent sometimes." 

Radbourn  looked  out  into  the  lobby  for  a 
moment.  "  They  are  products.  In  their  world 
is  the  latest  survival  of  universal  warfare.  In 
their  world  there  grow  no  flowers  of  pity  and 
remorse — only  the  scentless  roses  of  passion 
and  greed.  Life  is  a  mock  and  a  gibe.  It  is  a 
ring  where,  if  you  throttle  or  knock  out  your 
opponent  according  to  rules,  no  shadow  of 
blame  attaches  to  you.  In  their  air  no  philos- 
ophy except  the  heartless  cynicism  of  roues  and 
gamblers  gets  a  voice." 

"  And  these  men  marry  and  have  children," 
said  Tuttle,  as  Radbourn  paused. 

"  Yes,  and  their  wives  live  on  the  money  they 


72  21  itlembn:  of  tlje  Sl/trir 

wrench  or  filch  from  others,  and  never  question 
where  it  comes  from.  The  consciences  of 
women  need  awaking  if" 

There  was  an  outburst  of  voices  in  the  bar- 
room. 

"  That  must  be  Brennan,"  said  Tuttle. 

"A  handsome  young  fellow,  with  a  smiling 
face,  has  just  come  in.  Big  brown  mus- 
tache "- 

"That's  Brennan — king  of  the  Third  House." 

They  all  crowded  around  Brennan,  calling 
jocularly  : 

"  Hello,  Tom  !     Now,  what  ?  " 

"  Take  a  bracer,  Tom." 

"  Say,  d'  ye  know  what  Tuttle's  scheme  is  ?" 

"No,  what  is  it  ?" 

"  He's  got  a  joint  committee  appointed  to 
investigate  Consolidated  doings  this  winter." 

"Oh,  is  that  all?"  said  Brennan  carelessly. 
"  No,  I  won't  take  anything."  He  moved  away 
from  the  bar  and  out  of  hearing. 

Tuttle's  face  took  on  a  resolute  look. 

"You  see  how  confident  he  is?  They  are 
organized.  Every  available  point  is  defended. 
My  only  hope  is  to  find  a  man  within  to  unbar 
the  gate." 

Radbourn  looked  at  his  watch.  "  I  wish  I 
could  stay  and  help  you,  but  I  can't.  I  must 


21  JHnnbrr  of  tlje  Sfyiri  $ou0c.  73 

be  getting  to  my  train.  I  shall  read  the  papers 
carefully  to  see  how  you  come  out." 

"  I  wish  you  could  go  down  to  the  country 
with  me,  but  if  you  must  go" 

"Must  —  so  good-by."  He  reached  out  his 
strong  hand,  and  Tuttle  took  it,  looking  up  into 
the  stern,  rugged  face.  "  Keep*  pushing.  Did 
you  ever  try  to  start  a  freight  car  ?  You  put 
your  shoulder  to  it  and  strain  every  muscle 
to  its  best  —  it  seems  like  a  rock  —  but  wait! 
Hold  your  place  —  slowly,  imperceptibly,  it  be- 
gins to  move.  Make  your  own  moral.  Good- 
by."  Radbourn  rushed  away  with  a  wave  of 
the  hand. 

Tuttle  passed  out  into  the  street  and  down 
toward  the  steamer.  It  was  getting  cooler,  and 
the  tide  of  suburban  life  was  setting  toward  the 
depots  and  boats.  The  memory  of  Radbourn's 
hand  was  in  his.  "  If  I  only  had  his  help,"  he 
thought,  as  the  magnitude  of  his  struggle  came 
before  him. 

He  felt  he  could  stand  ridicule,  but  to  fail  now 
was  to  fail  for  twenty-five  years.  If  the  Consoli- 
dated got  its  charter,  it  might  stop  all  legislation 
in  the  interest  of  the  public. 

It  was  a  strange  and  beautiful  experience  to  go 
from  the  hot  air  of  the  city,  shaken  with  the  jar- 
ring war  and  thunder  of  trade,  down  toward  the 


74  21  Jttemtar  of  %  Sfyirir 

water-smell,  where  the  boats  came  in  to  lap  the 
mossy  fringe  of  wharves.  The  moment  his  face 
felt  the  wind  and  his  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
yellow-green  water,  Tuttle's  forehead  smoothed 
out  and  he  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  His  care  was 
gone. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A    GAME    OF    TENNIS. 

THE  unusual  heat  of  June  had  driven  the 
leisurely  classes  to  "Waterside"  earlier 
than  usual,  and  already  the  most  of  the  cot- 
tages were  opened,  and  the  women  and  chil- 
dren settled  for  the  summer.  The  restless 
fathers  and  husbands,  however,  simply  came 
and  went  from  the  city,  where  the  crush  of 
business  knew  no  heat  or  cold. 

Men  like  Davis  came  down  to  supper  — 
occasionally  —  more  often  came  at  eight  or 
nine  to  sleep  at  home  and  eat  breakfast, 
where  they  could  look  out  upon  the  water; 
but  their  capacity  for  rest  was  lost.  They 
could  not  throw  off  the  business  habit,  and 
they  returned  to  business  on  the  eight  o'clock 
boat,  reading  the  stock  markets,  with  no  time 
to  see  the  cool  and  restful  face  of  nature. 

Brennan  was  still  young,  and  had  not  lost 
the  power  to  throw  aside  his  cynicism  and 
his  plans  for  control  of  men  and  money.  He 
gave  himself  up  occasionally  to  the  enjoyment 


75 


76  21  iJlembrr  of  tlje  ®l)irir 

of  the  sea  and  the  flowers  and  Helene's 
coquetry.  On  these  trips  he  grew  light-hearted 
almost  as  a  boy. 

He  had  rooms  at  the  hotel  nearest  Mr. 
Davis'  cottage,  and  he  was  already  on  the 
most  intimate  terms  —  apparently — with  every- 
body, from  the  elevator  boy  to  the  lonely  old 
widow-woman  whom  everybody  avoided  be- 
cause of  her  stories  of  aches  and  pains  and 
whining  recounts  of  deaths  and  funerals. 

On  these  trips  Brennan  threw  business  lit- 
erally to  the  winds.  He  sang,  labored  at  the 
banjo,  took  part  in  every  dance,  helped  the 
children  mend  their  toys,  and  won,  without 
conscious  effort,  the  good  will  of  them  all. 

Waterside  was  an  old  town,  with  quaint,  wind- 
ing, low-lying  streets  close  to  the  water,  where 
the  floods  sometimes  came.  It  still  retains  many 
square-topped  verandaed  mansion-houses  on 
the  higher  streets.  Along  the  immediate  water- 
front the  ancient  fisher-cabins  had  been  cleared 
away,  and  quaint  cottages  had  taken  their  place. 

Davis  had  built  his  house  on  the  shore  near 
Senator  Ward,  and  his  family  had  spent  their 
summers  for  many  years  in  an  old  house  that 
belonged  to  his  wife's  father,  and  here  had  sprung 
up  the  friendship  of  Helene  and  Evelyn.  Wilson 
Tuttle  and  his  aged  mother  had  taken  a  cottage 


SI  Jflnubo;  of  tl)*  Styiri  fyonst.  77 

on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  because  he 
wished  to  be  near  Helene,  though  his  mother 
aided  him  to  conceal  this  by  a  careful  statement 
of  how  much  she  had  desired  the  sea-air  at  the 
point. 

When  Brennan  left  his  hotel  and  walked 
across  the  road  he  had  a  tennis  racquet  in  his 
hand.  A  gay  sash  about  his  lithe  and  powerful 
young  body,  a  jaunty  tennis  hat  and  loosely 
knotted  tie  finished  a  transformation.  He  was 
facile  as  an  actor.  He  seemed  to  change  his 
nature  with  his  dress.  As  he  walked  he  sang 
under  his  breath.  He  was  something  more  than 
handsome :  there  was  character  in  his  strong, 
straight  nose,  in  his  resolute  yet  merry  brown 
eyes,  and,  as  he  met  Helene,  her  eyes  fell,  and  a 
quick  flush  on  her  cheek  gave  him  instant  exulta- 
tion. 

There  was  quite  a  group  on  the  lawn  lying 
between  Senator  Ward's  house  and  the  Davis 
cottage. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Brennan/' pouted  Helene,  "you're 
late." 

"  Sorry.  Couldn't  help  it.  Business,  you 
know ;  but  I'm  ready  to  make  up  for  it. 
Come,"  he  said,  taking  possession  of  Helene, 
"we're  partners.  Who  takes  the  opposite?'' 


78  21  iJiembur  of  tije  Sljirtr 

"Evelyn  and  Mr.  Tuttle  — if  he'll  play,"  said 
Evelyn. 

"Til  try,"  Tuttle  replied,  "but  I'm  not 
very" 

"Oh,  you'll  improve  with  age,"  Tom  laughed, 
as  he  leaped  the  net. 

Tuttle  was  in  tennis  suit  also,  but  without 
the  sash  and  flowing  tie.  He  wore  his  glasses 
with  the  bows  behind  his  ears.  His  slender 
frame  was  active  enough,  but  awkward.  Other 
young  people  were  seated  about  on  benches 
under  the  trees.  Here  and  there  a  banjo 
tinkled,  and  boats  out  on  the  bay  were  moving 
slowly  in  the  light  wind,  the  red  sunlight 
glinting  on  the  sails.  Laughter  and  song  came 
from  every  side  —  a  magical  time  and  place. 

It  was  all  deliciously  far  away  from  the  hotel 
lobby  and  the  Third  House,  and  Brennan  gave 
himself  up  to  it  with  that  facile  adaptation  which 
made  him  a  mystery  and  a  spur  to  Tuttle.  He 
played  tennis  as  he  did  everything — with  ease 
and  careless  adroitness.  The  only  thing  that 
distracted  him  was  Helene,  who  looked  de- 
liciously, inhumanly  tempting  in  her  easy  flan- 
nels, her  little  blue  cap  pulled  rakishly  (and, 
perhaps,  designedly)  over  one  ear.  Evelyn  wore 
her  cap  straight,  square  as  a  policeman's  helmet. 

Tuttle,  with  that  perversity  which  really  fine 


21  JHmiher  of  tl)e  (Zfyirb  $on0e.  79 

minds  are  often  guilty  of,  struggled  to  match 
Brennan  on  this  field,  while  Helene  laughed 
merrily  at  his  failures,  and  Evelyn  smiled  when 
he  tried  to  half-volley  and  nearly  broke  his  rac- 
quet by  hitting  the  ground.  He  felt  unconsci- 
ously that  his  knowledge  of  literature  and  lan- 
guages didn't  count  with  that  laughing,  flushed 
and  careless  little  creature  over  the  net. 

At  last  Brennan  shouldered  his  racquet  and 
spoke  alone  to  Helene.  "I  don't  believe  I  can 
play  any  more.  Let's  go  and  sit  down  here, 
and  give  the  rest  a  chance.  I  want  to  talk  to 
you." 

Helene  knew  what  was  coming,  but  she  was 
fascinated  with  the  idea  of  listening  to  his  plea. 
Her  natural  coquetry  made  her  quite  uncertain 
whether  she  loved  him  or  Wilson  best.  He 
was  so  handsome  in  his  tennis  suit.  Wilson 
was  surrounded  by  the  other  players  ;  it  would 
not  do  any  harm  anyhow. 

"  Come,"  insisted  Brennan.  "  I  haven't  had  a 
chance  to  talk  with  you  for  a  week." 

Helene  hesitated  a  little,  looking  toward  the 
house.  "  I  ought  to  go  and  sit  with  poppa.  He 
looks  awfully  lonesome  sitting  over  there.  He 
seems  worried  lately  about  something.  Do  you 
know  what  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  may  be  this  railway  business.     Noth- 


so  31  Ulembo:  of  tt) 

ing  you  need  worry  about,  though.  We'll  at- 
tend to  it." 

Helene  leaned  her  hand  on  the  end  of  her 
racquet  and  her  chin  on  her  hand,  looking 
dreamily  over  the  bay.  "  Isn't  the  bay  just  per- 
fectly lovely,  with  the  setting  sun  lighting  its 
face?" 

"  It  does  very  well  for  a — sea-face,  but  I  know 
a  girl-face  that's  lovelier." 

Helene  looked  up  at  him  roguishly  without 
lifting  her  chin  from  her  hand.  "Does  it  hurt 
you  to  say  those  things  ?" 

"Not  much,  no.     Why?" 

"  I'd  be  concerned  about  you  if  it  did  ;  you 
say  so  many  of  them  lately.  Is  it  blarney  you're 
talking  ? "  she  said,  with  an  attempt  at  his 
dialect. 

"  It  ts  not,"  Brennan  replied,  smiling  down 
into  her  face.  Somebody  had  fired  the  ball  over 
the  back  net  and  Tuttle  came  running  on  after  it. 
When  he  reached  it  he  started  to  pick  it  up  with 
his  hands,  and  Brennan  called  sharply,  "  Hi,  hi ! 
Against  the  rules  !  " 

Tuttle  blushed  guiltily.  "Excuse  me;  didn't 
know  you  were  watching."  He  then  tried  to 
pick  the  ball  up  with  his  racquet  and  failed, 
much  to  their  amusement. 

"  Good  fellow  !  "  cried  Helene,  clapping  her 


21  illcmbcr  of  %  Sijiri  i^otise.  81 

hands,  when  he  succeeded.  As  he  ran  after  the 
ball,  she  looked  after  him  meditatively.  "  How 
well  Mr.  Tuttle  looks  in  a  tennis  suit,  and  I  think 
he  plays  very  well  for  one  who  is  near-sighted. 
Don't  you?" 

"Well,  never  having  been  near-sighted  my- 
self, I  can't  say.  I  wish  he'd  give  his  whole 
time  to  tennis.  He'd  play  better,  and  it  would 
suit  us  just  as  well." 

Helene  opened  her  eyes  wide,  in  a  childish 
stare.  "  Now,  why  do  you  say  that  ?  I  thought 
you  liked  each  other.  Thought  you  were  chums 
at  college,  and  all  that." 

"  So  we  were,  but  ha  !  "  he  went  on  melodra- 
matically. "  Why  did  he  cross  me  path  ?  Why 
does  he  steal  before  me  and  wrest  the  treasure 
from  me  hands  ?  Let  him  beware  ! " 

Helene  pretended  to  shudder.  "Oh,  you 
make  me  shiver.  You  sound  exactly  like  the 
villain  in  the  English  melodrama." 

"Thanks!  That's  what  I  meant  to  sound 
like.  Oh,  I  can  play  the  villain,  but  I  wish  my 
role  of  lover  pleased  you  better,  Helene,"  he 
added,  soberly. 

Helene  rose  in  pretended  hauteur. 

"Mr.  Brennan,  what  do  you  —  how  dare 
you?" 

Brennan  clapped  his  hands  and  laughed. 


82  21  Itlembn*  of  tlje  atjirb  fjoim. 

"Capital!  Nobody  could  do  it  more  to  the 
life." 

"  I  don't  follow  you,  sir,"  she  said,  severely. 

"Ingenue!  They  invariably  call  the  lover 
'Mister/  and  ask  what  he  means,  when  he  finally 
says  what  they've  tried  to  drag  out  of  him  for 
three  whole  acts." 

Helene  laughed  in  spite  of  herself.  "  Oh,  it's 
a  rehearsal,  then  !  " 

"No,  it's  a  proposal,  Helene."  There  was 
a  sincerity  in  his  voice  that  made  her  eyes  waver 
and  a  flush  rise  to  her  cheeks.  "  Your  father 
and  I  have  come  to  an  understanding.  Now, 
what's  your  verdict,  Helene  ?  Can't  you  look  at 
me?" 

Brennan  will  always  believe  that  young  Pierce 
threw  the  ball  over  the  net  on  purpose  to  send 
Tuttle  after  it,  calling,  "  Hey,  Brennan  !  Toss 
that  ball  down  this  way,  will  you,  please  ?  "  At 
any  rate,  he  picked  up  the  ball  and  flung  it  back 
to  Tuttle,  who  tried  to  catch  it  on  his  racquet, 
and,  failing,  paused  to  look  at  Helene,  who  was 
nervously  twirling  her  racquet  on  the  toe  of  her 
shoe. 

"  I  wish  you  hadn't  said  that  to  me,  Tom.  I 
do,"  she  added,  as  he  came  back. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  said,  sitting  beside  her  again. 

"  Because  I  can't  answer  it  as  you'd  like  me 


of  ti)t  Sljirir  fywst.  83 

to.  I  like  you,  Tom,  but  I  haven't  thought  of 
marrying  anybody,  hardly  —  yet." 

"  Not  yet  ?  I'm  glad  of  that.  Please,  promise 
to  begin  on  me.  'Tis  all  I  ask." 

"Oh,  I  can't,  Tom.  I  don't  like  you  well 
enough  for  that.  What  did  you  go  spoil  all  our 
good  times  for  ? "  she  cried  out,  pettishly,  to 
conceal  her  tears.  "Why  couldn't  you  keep 
quiet  ?  Now,  I  won't  dare  to  be  alone  with  you 
an  instant  for  fear  you'll  be  saying  " 

"  Sorry !  Won't  do  it  again,  but  couldn't  hold 
in  any  longer.  Stood  it  just  as  long  as  I  could. 
What  with  the  sun  on  your  hair,  mavourneen, 
and  the  dress,  and  the  cap,  and  the  little  shoon, 
acushla  !  " 

"  Tom  Brennan,  you're  crazy." 

"Wid  love!  So  I  am."  Then  he  added, 
seriously  :  "  I  wouldn't  say  this  to  you  before 
because  I  hadn't  got  to  the  place  where  I  could 
feel  strong  enough  and  successful  enough.  But 
now,  you  know,  I'm  the  Iron  Duke's  lieuten- 
ant." ' 

"  Yes,  I  know.  Poppa  thinks  a  great  deal  of 
you.  He  was  saying  so  last  night.  And  so  do 
I,  Tom  —  only  not  enough  to  promise  anything 
like  what" 

"All  right,"  said  Brennan,  cheerily.  "  Take 
your  own  time.  I  can  wait.  " 


84  21  Jilembn:  of  tf)e  Sfytrir 

"You  mean  you'll  have  to,"  laughed  Helene. 

"  I  do.  I  make  a  verrtue  of  necessity.  That's 
the  way  I  cover  me  defeats.  Where  to,  now, 
please  ?  "  he  asked,  as  Helene  rose. 

"  I'm  going  to  see  poppa.     Will  you  come  ?  " 

"  Will  I  ?  I  will.  But  hold  on,  you've  for- 
gotten something  —  one  important  thing." 

"What  is  it?" 

"You've  forgotten  the  usual  promise." 

"  Promise  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Brennan,  audaciously.  "To  be 
a  sister  to  me."  And  then  they  both  laughed 
so  heartily  that  a  row  of  heads  appeared  above 
the  tennis  net  in  eager  curiosity. 

"I'll  do  it  now." 

"I  guess  not." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Because  you  may  want  to  change  your  mind." 
He  saw  the  heads,  made  a  gesture  at  them,  and 
they  disappeared.  As  Helene  started  to  walk 
away,  Tuttle  came  hastily  across  the  ground. 

"Are  you  going  in  ? "  he  asked,  an  earnest, 
almost  pleading  look  in  his  eyes.  "  I'd  like 
to  speak  with  you." 

Helene  gave  Brennan  her  racquet.  "Take 
this  in,  Tom.  I'll  be  along  soon." 

As  Helene  turned  to  speak  to  Tuttle,  the  sing- 
ing of  the  young  people  on  the  water  swelled  out 


21  ilkmbcr  of  tlje  Sljirir  jJjoim.  85 

to  a  beautiful  chorus,  made  marvelously  sweet  by 
distance.  Standing  there  in  the  hush  and  color 
and  growing  coolness  of  the  evening,  looking 
upon  the  dainty  and  beautiful  girl,  her  little  cap 
pushed  back  from  her  halo  of  hair,  her  face 
flushed,  her  eyes  soft  with  some  vague  passion, 
Wilson  felt  the  common  ground  change  to  the 
velvet,  sun-shot  sward  of  some  immemorial 
romance. 

Helene  spoke  first  —  of  the  music.  "  Isn't  it 
lovely  ?  Life  is  so  beautiful  sometimes  it  almost 
makes  me  sad.  Do  you  ever  feel  like  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sometimes.  That  arises  from  the  con- 
trast of  what  life  might  be  with  what  it  is."  The 
singers  sang  on  the  chorus  again,  and  neither 
spoke  till  it  died  away.  Then  Helene  sighed, 
andTuttle  spoke  slowly,  softly:  "  In  the  presence 
of  beauty,  beneath  the  stars,  man's  thoughts  turn 
to  love." 

"  Whom  are  you  quoting  ?  "  she  asked,  archly, 
in  self-defense. 

"Jean  Paul."  Then  he  turned  and  spoke 
gravely,  but  bluntly:  "  I  saw  Brennan  talking 
with  you,  and  he  acted  like  a  lover.  Was  he  ? 
I  saw  you  give  him  your  hand.  Have  you 
given  him  your  heart  too  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  you. have  any  right  to  ask  such 
questions,"  Helene  said,  rather  stiffly. 


£6  21  Ittembn:  of  tlje  ftljtri 

"  If  you're  not  a  coquette,  I  have  a  perfect 
right.  You've  given  me  that  right.  If  not  in 
words,  certainly  in  actions." 

"  I  have  ?  "  she  asked,  incredulously. 

"  You  have,  Helene." 

She  arched  her  eyebrows.  "  Where  ?   When?" 

Tuttle  smiled  a  little.  "  You  really  don't 
mean  to  ask  me  to  specify,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  good  gracious,  no  !  "  she  replied,  color- 
ing a  little.  "  What  did  I  mean  by  saying  such 
things." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  such  intimacy  with 
Tom  Brennan  ?  That's  what  I'm  waiting  to 
hear.  After  our  year  of — of  something  more 
than  friendship,  are  you  going  to" 

Helene  was  pouting,  nearly  crying.  "  I  don't 
care,"  she  said,  helplessly.  "  He's  nice,  and  I 
really  never  promised  you,  and  he  don't  scold 
me." 

"  Is  it  scolding  to  ask  you  to  be  honest  ?  No, 
you  never  promised  me  anything.  But  I'm 
afraid  you're  something  I  hate  in  a  woman  —  a 
trifler.  You  make  me  afraid  of  it  against  my 
will."  Helene  no  longer  tried  to  look  at  him. 
"And  I  know  Tom  Brennan  is  a  hypocrite  and  a 
scoundrel." 

"  Mr.  Tuttle,  how  dare  you   say  such  a  thing 


21  UUmber  of  tlje  Sljirb  §o«0e.  87 

to  me,  and  about  my  father's  secretary  ?  It's 
outrageous  in  you." 

"  I  dare  because  it's  the  truth,  and  I  know  it; 
and  because  I  want  you  to  know  it,  and  because 
I  don't  want  you  to  waste  yourself  on  such  a 
conscienceless  " 

"  How  kind  you  are  and  how  modest  !  "  inter- 
rupted Helene,  scornfully. 

"  I  know  what  you  mean.  I  am  a  better  man 
than  Brennan.  If  I  wasn't,  by  heaven,  I'd  go 
hang !  He  has  no  conscience  at  all.  He's  a 
type  of  the  modern  business  man,  whose  ideas  of 
right  and  wrong  are  atrophied  for  lack  of  use. 
I  can't  stand  by  and  see  you  caught  by  that 
man's  reckless  and  insinuating  grace.  I  must 
say  what  I  think,  even  at  the  risk  of  offending 
you.  I  warn  you  " 

Helene  was  moved  by  his  frankness  and  sin- 
cerity, but  disowned  it.  "Many  thanks!  But 
do  you  suppose  my  father  would  keep  such  a 
man  if" 

"No,  I  don't.  I  admire  and  respect  the  Iron 
Duke  too  much  to  believe  that,  and  I  firmly  be- 
lieve Brennan  is  using  him,  and  Fox  is  even  a 
worse  type.  He's  involving  them  in  a  crime 
that  will  ruin  you  all." 

"  Why,  Tom  is  only  a  boy,"  exclaimed  Helene, 


88  21  Jttembo;  of  tlje  Styirir 

trying  to  laugh.  "He  can't  —  why,  he's  too 
jolly  to  be  bad.  It's  too  absurd." 

"You  see  only  one  side  of  him  —  his  social 
side.  He  can  be  —  terrible.  I  grant  you  he's 
brilliant  everywhere,  but  if  you  could  see  him  as 
I  see  him,  with  men,  in  the  fumes  of  whisky 
and  tobacco,  in  his  character  as  king  of  the 
lobby,  he'd  scare  you.  To  be  a  leader  in  the 
Third  House  requires  cunning  and  good  humor, 
as  well  as  power."  He  turned  and  threw  out 
one  hand  in  an  impulsive  gesture  of  appeal. 
"  Don't  throw  me  over,  Helene,  for  a  man  like 
Brennan,  just  because  I  can't  grin  and  flatter 
you  and  spend  my  time  dancing  about" 

She  sprang  up.    "I  won't  stay  to  be  lectured." 

Tuttle  stopped  her  with  a  gesture  and  a  word. 
"  Wait."  When  he  spoke  after  a  pause,  it  was 
in  a  tone  of  deep  sadness.  "  I  see  now  that  you 
have  trifled  with  me.  I've  lost  you,  but  I  can 
talk  plainer  now.  Tom  Brennan  loves  you;  I 
give  him  credit  for  taste  and  sincerity  there" 

She  smiled  and  bowed  cuttingly.  "Thank 
you." 

"  But  I  tell  you  he'd  ruin  your  father  without 
a  pang  if  necessary  to  gain  power  for  himself. 
How  faithful  such  a  man  can  be  to  a  woman  — 
Wait !  "  he  said,  stopping  her  again.  "  Don't  go 
away.  I'll  go.  .  Now,  I've  said  all  I'm  going  to. 


21  ifltmbo:  of  %  ffifjirb  §oti0e.  89 

Only,  for  heaven's  sake,  believe  in  my  sincer- 
ity ! "  His  voice  broke  a  little,  his  deep  brown 
eyes  looked  into  hers  with  the  purity  and  strength 
of  a  man  who  is  sure  of  his  ground.  "  Don't 
draw  away  from  me  entirely.  Try  to  act  just  as 
if  I'd  never  said  a  word.  It's  childish  to  quarrel 
and  pass  by  without  speaking.  Don't  subject 
me  to  that" 

Helene  sank  into  the  settee  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands.  "  It's  horrible  in  you,  that's 
what  it  is.  Just  horrible  !  You've  spoiled  our 
whole  evening  !  I'll  never  forgive  you  !  " 

Evelyn  came  forward  slowly  from  the  other 
side  of  the  ground  and  did  not  perceive  Helene 
on  the  settee  until  she  had  reached  Tuttle's  side. 
Then  a  look  of  surprise  and  alarm  came  into 
her  face.  "Oh,"  she  said,  with  a  motion  to  re- 
treat. "I  hope  I'm  not  —  I  thought  you  were 
alone,  Mr.  Tuttle.  I  didn't  see  you,  Helene." 

"  Oh,  never  mind!  Don't  go  —  I'm  just 
going." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause,  and  then  he 
spoke  in  a  pitiful  attempt  to  use  his  ordinary 
tone.  "  I  brought  a  new  song  up  from  town. 
Shall  we  try  it  ?  Do  you  care  to  have  me  bring 
it  over  ?  " 

"Of  course  I  do,"  Helene  replied,  tearfully, 
without  looking  up. 


90  21  iSlembo:  of  %  Sljtrii 

"  Very  well,  I'll  go  get  it  now." 

Evelyn  looked  after  him  a  moment,  then  took 
a  seat  beside  Helene.  "  What's  the  matter, 
dear  ?  Have  you  had  a  quarrel  ?  Tell  me  all 
about  it." 

"  Worse  than  that,"  replied  Helene,  giving 
way  at  the  first  touch  of  sympathy.  <(  He's  been 
sc-scolding  me,  and — and  —  talking  mean  about 
—  Tom." 

"  Talking  about  Tom  ?     What  for  ?     How  ? " 

"Talking  horribly,  calling  him  a  villain,  and 
telling  me  that  I — flirted." 

"  Oh,  I  see.  Well,  he  must  be  jealous.  You 
mustn't  mind  that.  That's  natural,  and  it  really 
did  look  like  a  courtship  from  our  point  of 
view." 

"  I  don't  see  what's  the  matter.  It  ain't  a  bit 
like  him.  He's  always  been  so  grave  and  kind, 
and  that's  what  I  liked,  and  now  he  talks  like  — 
like  an  —  I  d'know  what." 

"Good  gracious!  As  bad  as  that?  Well, 
now,  you  mustn't  mind  this  little  explosion.  He 
loves  you  dearly,  and  he's  —  he's  a  splendid  man, 
and  I'm  sure  he's  perfectly  sincere,  and  loves  you 
very  —  very  dearly."  Someway  it  was  not  easy 
to  speak  words  of  comfort. 

"So  —  so  does  Tom."  Evelyn  looked  at  her 
sharply. 


21  JIfcmbfr  of  tlje  Sljiri  §ou0e.  91 

"  How  do  you  know  ? " 

"He  told  me  so  to-day."  She  rose  with  an- 
other sudden  impulse  of  anger.  "  I  hate  to  be 
lectured,  and  he's  always  lecturing*  me.  I  won't 
stand  it."  The  voice  of  Davis  came  loudly  to 
their  ears,  and  Helene  said  hastily  :  "  Come  in, 
I  don't  want  to  see  poppa  now."  As  they  went 
off  around  the  corner  of  the  house,  Davis  and 
Fox  came  out  on  the  lawn,  bringing  chairs  in 
their  hands.  Davis  had  a  bundle  of  newspapers. 
He  seemed  in  bad  humor,  and  his  voice  was 
aggressive. 

"  Oh,  these  newspapers  !     Never  mind  'em." 

"  I  tell  you,  these  little  newspapers  do  us 
harm.  They  manufacture  public  sentiment." 

"  But  we  can't  get  the  earth  on  our  side," 
returned  Fox  as  he  took  his  seat  and  looked 
out  on  the  water. 

"We  must  try.  They  must  be  fixed  as  well 
as  the  big  dailies.  Take  them  in  the  aggregate, 
they're  a  power." 

Fox  rolled  over  on  one  hip  and  looked  at  him 
with  a  grin.  "  Did  you  notice  a  change  in  the 
editorials  of  the  Evening  Planet  ?  " 

"  I  did.     Rather  singular,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"Very,"  replied  Fox,  with  a  dry  cough.  "  I'm 
quite  at  a  loss  to  understand  it." 

"As  for  Tuttle  and  his  damned  committee,  I'm 


92  21  JHembo:  of  %  Sfyirlr 

going  to  have  an  understanding  with  him  to- 
night, right  now." 

"Don't  do  it,  Lawrence.  He's  a  dangerous 
man.  Better  let  me  " 

"  Will  you  let  me  manage  a  few  of  my 
affairs?"  Davis  turned  on  him  angrily.  "I'm 
not  a  boy." 

Fox  rose  with  more  of  anger  than  he  had 
ever  shown.  His  apparently  inexhaustible  pa- 
tience was  giving  way.  "Very  well.  I've  got 
no  more  to  say.  I  distinctly  warn  you  that 
things  are  at  a  critical  point." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  sit  down,"  said  Davis,  in  a 
gentler  tone.  "I  didn't  mean  to  —  Come,  sit 
down  !  Haven't  I  taken  your  advice  all  along?" 

"  Yes,  but  lately  somehow  —  I've  always  ad- 
mired your  coolness,  Lawrence,  but  somehow 
you've  lost  control  of  yourself  lately.  Fact  is, 
you're  nervous ;  and,  to  be  honest  about  it,  I'm 
afraid  you'll  do  us  all  harm  in  one  of  these  tem- 
pers. You  haven't  put  this  thing  through  with 
your  usual  adroitness,  to  be  frank." 

Davis  bowed  his  head  in  thought.  "  You're 
right,  Fox.  I'm  losing  my  hold  on  myself.  That 
row  with  Brennan  showed  me  that.  I'm  getting 
irritable.  If  I  get  out  o'  this,"  he  said  with  a 
certain  pathetic  resolution,  "it  ends  it  with  me. 
I'll  never  go  into  another  such  fight.  I  can't 


21  JUflnbrr  of  tl)e  Sljirir  $oti0e.  93 

stand  it.  I'm  getting  old,  and,  well,  I'm  —  I'm 
losing  my  sleep  over  these  things.  If  I  get  out 
o'  this  hole,  I'll  take  Helene  and  go  to  Europe." 

He  looked  almost  pitiful  as  he  sat  thus,  his 
eyes  full  of  a  somber  shadow. 

Tuttle,  coming  by,  brought  him  back  to  his 
usual  self. 

"  Good  evening,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  about 
to  pass. 

Davis  extended  a  newspaper.  "Well,  sir, 
what's  all  this  row  you've  raised  in  the  House 
against  me  ? " 

"  I've  raised  no  row  against  you,  Mr.  Davis, 
that  I'm  aware  of,"  Tuttle  replied,  facing  him. 

"Bosh!  I  mean  against  the  Consolidated. 
What  are  you  trying  to  do,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Very  well,  sir,  let  it  stand  so,"  replied  Tuttle, 
quietly.  "  I'm  simply  after  the  truth  about  the 
matter;  that's  all.  I'm  very  sorry  to  bring 
even  temporary  reproach" 

Davis  unfolded  the  paper,  and  pointed  at  the 
first  page.  "  I'd  like  to  know  just  what  you  said. 
Are  you  correctly  reported  ?  What  have  you 
said  to  raise  all  these  headlines  ?  " 

"  I  said,"  replied  Tuttle,  rather  formally,  "that 
so  much  evidence  had  been  brought  to  me  that 
smirched  the  reputation  of  the  legislators  as  to 
establish  in  my  mind  a  belief  that  the  Consoli- 


94  21  member  of  ti)t  (fttjirir 

dated  Air  Line,  in  its  eagerness  to  secure  the 
charter,  had  resorted  to  the  use  of  money 
through  both  houses  ;  that,  the  names  of  these 
senators  having  been  handed  to  me" 

"  It's  a  lie,  every  word  of  it !  " 

"That  will  be  seen,  sir,  for  a  joint  investigat- 
ing committee  has  been  formed  to  protect  the 
honor  of  the  legislators,  and  I  have  become  per- 
sonally responsible  for  the  charges  of  corruption 
I  have  made,  and  I  assure  you  I  shall  sift  the 
whole  matter  to  the  last  grain  of  evidence."  He 
ended  with  a  certain  grim  resolution. 

"  Sift  away  ! "  said  Davis,  contemptuously. 
"You'll  find  nothing.  Not  one  cent  has  ever 
been  paid  by  me  to  any  member  of  the  senate 
or  the  lower  house." 

"I  believe  that,  Mr.  Davis,"  said  Tuttle,  with 
frank  eagerness.  "And  I  want  to  see  it  proved, 
for  the  sake  of  your  daughter  —  for  my  own 
peace  of  mind,  I  want  to  prove  that." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  sir/'  he  replied,  dropping  into  the 
orator's  formal  tone  again,  "that  your  honor,  as 
the  father  of  Helene  and  as  my  friend,  is  as  dear 
to  me  as  my  own.  I  made  those  charges  and 
welcomed  that  committee,  because  I  felt  that 
you  were  not  connected  directly  with  this  busi- 
ness, and  because  I  knew  your  good  name 


21  Jlfembo;  of  tl)e  Sljirir  jBjoim.  95 

would  stand  all  the  better  because  of  the  test. 
It's  a  bath  of  flame,  sir,  but  the  honor  of  our 
senate  demands  it." 

Davis  was  much  moved,  and  he  stood  look- 
ing down  at  the  grass,  while  Fox  paced  slowly 
up  and  down  behind  them. 

"It's  a  bath  of  flame,  my  boy,"  he  said,  with 
a  sigh. 

Fox  struck  in.  "A  bath,  young  man,  we  busi- 
ness men  can't  afford.  It  takes  the  skin  off." 

Davis  put  his  hand  on  Tuttle's  shoulder.  His 
voice  was  a  little  unsteady.  "Wilson,  I've  had 
my  eye  on  you  ever  since  you  left  college.  I've 
been  pleased  at  your  success.  Of  course,  IVe 
laughed  at  you  as  the  scholar  in  politics  ;  but,  all 
the  same,  I've  admired  your  grit  and  honesty. 
But  you  don't  understand  the  pressure  that 
comes  on  a  man  like  me.  A  man  can't  always 
just  do  as  he  wants  to.  I  ain't  quite  ready  to 
give  Helene  away  yet.  But  I'll  say  right  now, 
I  don't  know  a  young  man  I'd  trust  her  to 
quicker  —  that  is,  if" 

"  Thank  you  !  I  appreciate  your  praise.  I've 
tried  to  serve" 

"  But  this  investigation  is  bad  business.  Hush 
it  up  as  soon  as  you  can.  It  may  hurt  us.  It 
can't  help  but  hurt  us." 

"In  what  way,  Mr.  Davis?" 


96  21  member  of  t\)t  STljtrb 

"Lose  us  the  charter.  The  people  are  ready 
and  anxious  to  convict  somebody  of  corruption. 
Monopoly  and  corporations  are  red  rags  to  'm, 
even  when  they're  being"  served  by  the  monop- 
olies. Now,  this  investigation,  Wilson,  will  do 
us  harm.  You  should  have  fought  it  down." 

"If  the  Consolidated  is  what  you  claim,  the 
investigation  will  vindicate  it.  It  must  go  on." 

Davis  was  a  little  angered  at  his  tone.  "  But 
it  must  not  go  on." 

"It  will  go  on.  It  can't  be  stopped,  /can't 
stop  it."  The  sun  had  left  the  grass  ;  the  men's 
faces  were  getting  gray  in  the  dusk.  Davis 
stood  in  shadow. 

"But  you  must.  You  must  withdraw  your 
charges." 

"  I  didn't  make  the  charges.  I  simply  stated 
them,  sir,  as  they  came  to  me,  and  demanded 
their  refutation  for  the  honor  of  my  colleagues, 
and  for  your  honor." 

Fox  struck  in  in  a  slow,  irritated  tone.  "  You're 
so  damned  infernally  solicitous  about  your  honor, 
Tuttle.  As  if  you  didn't  know  " 

"  You'll  ruin  us,  that's  what  you'll  do,"  said 
Davis,  in  rising  anger.  "  Ruin  us  with  your  in- 
vestigation ! " 

"  If  the  light  of  day,  sir,  will  ruin  you,"  replied 
Tuttle,  mounting  his  oratorical  hobby,  "very 


21  illembn:  of  tl)e  Sljirir  (Ijonse.  97 

well.  Let  it.  We  can't  allow  in  this  republic 
any  corporation,  no  matter  how  good  its  inten- 
tions, to  dominate  legislation  or  shelter  itself 
under  the  cloak  of  bribery." 

"  Do  you  charge  me  with  bribery?"  demanded 
Davis. 

"I  tell  you,  sir,  I  make  no  charges.  It  is 
whispered  in  my  ears  by  men  of  character  that 
the  Consolidated  has  absolute  control  of  all  rail- 
way legislation.  I  want  our  Capitol  purged  of 
its  Third  House,  and  its  honor  vindicated.  And, 
by  heaven,  it  shall  be  done  at  any  sacrifice  ! " 

Davis  raised  his  voice  in  terrible  wrath.  "By 
God,  you  sha'n't  sacrifice  me,  sir  !  Go  ahead 
with  your  twopenny  investigation,  and  when 
your  re-election  time  comes,  you'll  feel  my  hand. 
I  want  you  to  understand  you  can't  ride  me 
down.  Now,  go  on  !  Try  it !  Do  your  worst ! " 

Helene,  who  had  heard  their  loud  voices 
from  the  piazza,  came  running  up.  "Why, 
father,  how  excited  you  are!  Wilson,  you're 
not  quarreling  with  him?" 

Wilson  disregarded  her.  "  No  clean  man  will 
suffer  if  this  investigation  goes  on.  And  it  shall 
go  on,  or  I'll  resign  my  office.  The  scholar, 
sir,  may  be  a  fool,  but  he's  going  to  stand  for 
principle.  Good  heavens  !  The  atmosphere  of 
our  legislative  halls  appalls  me.  Principles  are 


98  21  Jttembo:  of  tlje  (Ifyirir 

to  be  laughed  at  or  aired  only  in  spread-eagle 
speeches.  I  swear,  sometimes  I  feel  as  if  noth- 
ing but  some  cataclysm  of  nature  would  be 
powerful  enough  to  cleanse  our  political  dens, 
reeking  with  moral  slime" 

"  Listen  to  me,  young  man,"  interrupted  Davis 
in  deadly  earnest.  "  You'll  withdraw  your  charges 
to-morrow." 

"  I  will  not''  replied  Tuttle,  with  inexorable 
resolution.  The  men  faced  each  other  with  set 
teeth,  and  at  last  Davis  said : 

"  I'll  fight  this  thing  till  I  die  or  win." 

Helene,  awed  and  frightened,  interrupted : 
"What  does  it  all  mean  ?  What  has  happened? 
Father,  can't  you  tell  me  ?" 

Davis  put  her  aside,  harshly.  "Go.  away; 
you  can't  understand  it.  This  is  a  man's  affair. 
Yes,  you  can  understand  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
sudden  ignoble  thought.  "  Your  young  man, 
there,  calls  me  a  briber,  and  threatens  me  with 
arrest."  Helene  gave  a  little  cry  of  dismay. 
Tuttle  made  no  sign,  but  stood  looking  straight 
at  Davis,  who  went  on  : 

"  He  has  brought  charges  against  me.  He'd 
send  me  to  State  prison  if  he  could." 

"Oh,  no!  You  wouldn't  do  that!  It  can't 
be  true  !  "  She  appealed  to  Wilson. 


21  ilkmba;  of  %  Sljirtr  §otJ0e.  99 

"  It  is  true,  and  he  can't  deny  it,"  insisted 
Davis. 

"  Is  it  true,  Wilson  ?  "  she  insisted. 

Tuttle's  white  wrath  still  kept  its  flame.  "  I 
say  again  I've  brought  charges  against  the  Con- 
solidated Road.  Tell  her,  sir,  why  you  shrink." 

"  If  I  do,  she'll  turn  on  you." 

"  No,  she  won't.  And  if  she  does,  no  matter. 
I  say  again,  you're  being  drawn  into  a  terrible 
vortex  by  wily  and  unscrupulous  men,  Mr. 
Davis.  Get  rid  of  that  man/'  he  said,  indicating 
Fox.  "  Get  rid  of  Brennan.  Ship  the  whole 
business  of  the  Third  House.  Ship  Brennan, 
above  all." 

"  I  won't  do  that — I  can't." 

"  Can't  ?     The  Iron  Duke  can't  ?  " 

"  Damn  it !  What  do  you  follow  me  up  for? 
I  say  I  won't  and  I  can't.  I  must  succeed  in 
this  to  hold  what  I've  got." 

There  was  a  pause,  while  Tuttle  considered 
the  meaning  of  this.  When  he  spoke  again  it 
was  in  a  tone  that  decided  everything.  His 
words  came  out  slowly  ;  his  voice  was  low  and 
tense  with  passion. 

"Now  I  say,  irrevocably,  the  investigation 
must  go  on,  and  I  will  testify." 

Helene  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  dis- 
may and  bewilderment.  Brennan  appeared  on 


loo  21  ittembn:  of  %  Sfyiri 

the  other  side  of  the  shrubs,  listening  to  the 
conversation. 

"  You  won't  testify  against  father  and  Tom," 
said  Helene. 

"Against  the  Consolidated  Road,"  reiterated 
Tuttle. 

"I'm  the  Consolidated  Road,"  said  Davis. 

"Very  well,  sir;  against  you,  then." 

"  Then  you're  a  fool,"  struck  in  Brennan, 
"and  you'll  have  your  folly  for  your  pains."  He 
threw  away  his  cigar,  and  stepped  with  studied 
effect  to  the  side  of  Davis.  "As  for  me,  I  stand 
or  fall  with  the  Iron  Duke." 

"Do  you  hear  what  he  says?"  Helene  asked 
Tuttle. 

"  Good  heavens,  Helene  !  Can't  you  see  he's 
the  very  man  proceeded  against — the  head  and 
front  of  it  all  ?  Don't  you  see  why  he  " 

"  I  know  he  stands  by  my  father  ;  that's  what 
I  know,"  replied  Helene,  obstinately  blind,  "  and 
I  know  you  are  against  us." 

"And  so  you  distrust  me,  too?"  said  Tuttle, 
despairingly.  "  Distrust  me  for  being  honest, 
and  believe  in  him  when  he  makes  a  theatrical, 
shameless  bid" 

"I  do,"  replied  Helene,  moving  a  little  nearer 
her  father  and  Brennan. 

After  a  silence  Tuttle  mastered  himself,  and 


21  JtUmtar  of  tlje  Stjirir  ^ou0e.  101 

raised  his  head  in  a  lofty  gesture.  "  Very  well. 
This  infamous  attack  on  the  senate  shall  be  ex- 
posed and  the  whole  matter  investigated,  no 
matter  who  suffers.  Good  night." 

As  he  turned  and  walked  slowly  away  in  the 
yellow  dusk,  Helene  put  her  arms  about  her 
father's  neck. 

Fox  took  Brennan  one  side.  "  Pretty  well 
done,  Brennan." 

"  Wasn't  it  ?  Saw  my  chance  for  a  coup  de 
the  aire" 

In  the  silence  the  far-away  chorus  was  heard 
again,  and  the  party  of  tennis-players  marched 
off  the  lawn,  laughing  and  singing. 

In  his  exaltation  Brennan  took  Fox's  arm,  and 
they  went  away  together  to  the  hotel. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

SENATOR    WARD    AT    HOME. 

CENATOR  WARD  was  country-born,  and 
^  he  retained  a  certain  homely  simplicity  of 
accent,  almost  dialect,  in  his  private  speech,  and 
a  timidity  of  manner  which  at  times  betrayed  him. 
He  was  a  New  England  Scotch  type,  tall,  spare, 
with  a  long-  beard,  thin  nose  and  deep,  beautiful 
gray  eyes.  He  wore  his  Prince  Albert  coat 
with  dignity  and  kept  the  respect  of  those  who 
knew  him,  in  spite  of  his  one  terrible  weakness. 
Like  thousands  of  others,  he  was  an  example  of 
the  inexorable  law  of  heredity. 

In  the  good  old  days  of  ''rum  and  barn-rais- 
in's," his  father,  a  carpenter,  had  been  a  man 
of  whom  every  one  said  : 

"Ben  Ward  is  a  good  man,  but  a  terrible 
drinker." 

He  was  more  than  a  good  fellow  —  he  was  a 
thoughtful  man,  and  he  had  bequeathed  to  his 
son  a  blessing,  as  well  as  a  curse  —  the  gift  of 
oratory  and  a  mind  that,  in  its  best  moments, 
soon  carried  Rufus  Ward  to  a  very  important 


ft  JHember  of  %  Styirtr  fijouse.  103 

position  in  the  business  and  local  politics  of  his 
adoptive  country. 

But  it  was  through  his  forced  fraternizing1  with 
party  politicians  in  offices  and  ward  headquar- 
ters, reeking  with  liquor,  that  his  inborn,  latent  ap- 
petite came  to  master  him.  The  "boys"  laughed 
at  it,  and  said  it  " didn't  matter,"  but  they  soon 
saw  they  had  a  weapon  to  use  against  him  when 
he  denounced  some  disgraceful  deed  of  theirs. 
This  added  to  his  natural  timidity. 

As  a  business  man  he  was  irreproachable,  and 
no  one  had  ever  charged  anything  worse  than 
weakness  against  him.  His  wife,  of  New 
England  descent,  was  an  uneducated  woman,  but 
of  great  natural  ability,  and  in  Schoharie  she 
was  considered  a  worthy  wife  to  the  Senator, 
though  at  Waterside  her  plain  speech  and  dem- 
ocratic manners  provoked  comment.  She  looked 
matronly,  and  had  at  the  same  time  something 
masculine  about  her  —  wholesome  and  kind. 

When  the  Senator  came  home  that  afternoon 
from  his  interview  with  Brennan,  she  received 
him  as  if  his  clouded  eyes,  purpled  face  and  pal- 
sied legs  were  due  to  the  excessive  heat.  She 
took  him  hurriedly  to  his  room  and  silently 
bathed  his  face  and  hands,  helped  him  off  with 
his  coat  and  shoes,  and  left  him  lying  down  ready 
to  sleep. 


104  21  ittembr  of  tl)£ 

"Has  father  come?"  asked  Evelyn,  as  Mrs. 
Ward  closed  the  door  behind  her  and  came  into 
the  hall. 

"Yes  — he's  come." 

There  were  no  tears  in  her  eyes  and  no 
tremor  in  her  voice.  Only  a  patient,  weary  tone. 
She  had  got  beyond  tears  or  wailing.  She  ac- 
cepted it  as  a  necessity  to  be  calmly  met. 

Evelyn  sighed,  put  her  arm  about  her  mother's 
neck,  and  laid  her  face  on  her  shoulder.  She 
understood  perfectly — no  need  of  any  further 
words. 

"Poor  mamma!  Well!  We  must  go  down 
to  dinner." 

They  didn't  talk  much.  They  never  did  on 
such  nights.  Evelyn  sat  with  brooding  eyes, 
her  forehead  full  of  knots.  She  had  beautiful 
eyes — like  her  father's  —  sad  now,  as  she  listened 
to  the  sounds  of  merry  life  outside.  They  were 
playing  tennis  out  there  —  lithe  girls  in  gray 
flannels,  slender  youths  in  sashes  and  jaunty 
caps.  The  bay  was  flecked  with  sails,  and  from 
boats  floating  sleepily  on  the  rose  and  blue  of 
the  water  came  the  sound  of  young  voices  singing, 
and  under  it  all,  and  back  of  it  all,  the  soft,  pulsing 
swash  and  snarl  of  the  waves  on  the  beach. 
They  sat  apart  from  it  all  —  alienated  from  it  by 
their  trouble. 


21  JlUmbrr  of  tlje  Sljirir  gotise.  105 

"Well/'  said  Mrs.  Ward  at  last,  when  the 
waiter  was  out  of  the  room,  "  I  hope  they'll 
adjourn  up  there  at  the  Capitol  pretty  soon ; 
then  father  can  be  with  us." 

"  I  guess  they  will.  Here  it  is  first  week  in 
June.  They  can't  go  on  much  longer."  Then 
they  fell  into  silence. 

"  Good  evening,"  said  a  familiar  voice  at  the 
window. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tuttle  ;  come  in,  won't  you  ?"  cried 
Evelyn,  her  face  lighting  up  with  a  beautiful 
smile,  which  faded  as  he  replied : 

"  Thank  you.     Is  the  Senator  in  ? " 

"Yes  —  but  he  isn't  very  well.  Unless  it  is 
something  very  important,  I'd  rather  not" 

"Oh,  no!  I'll  wait  till  to-morrow.  Don't 
disturb  him."  There  was  a  quick  interchange  of 
glances,  and  Tuttle  knew  the  truth,  and  Evelyn 
knew  that  he  knew  it. 

"  Let's  take  a  walk.  I'm  a  dismal  failure  at 
tennis,"  he  said,  after  a  pause. 

"Very  well  —  unless  you  need  me,  mother?" 
This  question  meant  to  Mrs.  Ward:  "unless 
father  needs  us  both  to  take  care  of  him." 

"  Oh,  no  —  I  don't  need  you,  dear.  Go  along. 
It'll  do  you  good." 

Evelyn  knew  what  this  walk  meant  —  that 
she  would  have  an  exquisite  hour  that  would 


106  21  Jtlembn:  of  tlje  Sljirb 

leave  her  with  a  hunger  in  the  heart  that  would 
not  let  her  sleep  —  and  yet  she  could  not  resist. 
She  went  to  her  room  to  put  on  an  extra  ribbon 
or  flower.  She  stood  for  a  moment  before  the 
glass,  not  in  bitterness,  but  in  a  dumb,  indefin- 
able regret  that  she  should  be  so  unattractive. 

They  took  their  way  down  to  the  beach, 
where  lovers  and  young  wives  and  nurse-girls 
were  promenading  on  the  firm,  smooth  sand, 
over  which  the  hissing  laps  of  sea  ran  like 
green,  silver-edged  tongues.  There  was  a  fresh 
sea-wind  blowing,  salt  and  sea-weedy.  In  the 
far  offing  sun-tinted  sails  slanted  and  steamers 
were  passing,  leaving  vast  dun  banners  of  smoke 
trailing  along  the  upper  air. 

Tuttle  was  a  little  abstracted,  but  as  he 
went  on,  he  grew  more  in  earnest.  He  was  a 
man  of  wide  reading  and  of  deep  enthusiasm, 
and  he  carried  conversation  to  the  plane  of  his 
own  thought,  or  silenced  his  listener  by  the 
wealth  of  his  diction  and  the  wide  reach  of  his 
perceptions. 

Evelyn  talked  but  little,  but  she  always  had 
the  effect  of  bringing  the  best  thoughts  of  her 
friends  to  the  surface,  and  Tuttle  always  talked 
to  her  as  to  a  comrade.  Her  replies  and  sug- 
gestions, brief  as  they  were,  showed  how  thor- 


21  iflmber  of  tlje  Sljirtr  <5cm0*.  10? 

oughly  she  enjoyed  him,  and  how  closely  she 
followed  his  thought. 

When  she  came  home  an  hour  later,  she  went 
to  her  room  and  flung  herself  down  on  the  sofa, 
crushing  the  flowers  on  her  bosom.  She  could 
remember  but  little  of  what  he  had  said  —  she 
remembered  the  shining  sands,  the  music,  the 
gay  young  voices  and  flexile  forms,  the  clutch 
and  snarl  of  the  ocean,  and,  above  all,  or 
through  it  all,  that  grave,  sweet  man's-voice 
sounding  in  her  ear. 

She  did  not  deceive  herself.  She  knew  he 
was  not  turning  to  her  from  Helene. 

"He  likes  me  —  but  he  loves  Helene,"  was 
the  sentence  that  came  over  and  over  into  her 
mind,  as  if  she  were  explaining  it  all  to  her 
mother.  It  was  nearly  midnight  when  she  arose 
and  wearily  undressed  for  sleep.  She  deter- 
mined never  to  yield  to  such  temptation  again. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning,  Senator  Ward 
was  pale  and  silent.  Nothing  was  said  to  indi- 
cate that  it  was  not  the  usual  breakfast  time. 
They  greeted  him  as  cheerily  as  possible,  and 
Mrs.  Ward  placed  a  strong  cup  of  coffee  at  his 
plate,  which  he  drank  at  once. 

"I  guess  you  hadn't  better  go  up  to  the 
Capitol  to-day,  Rufus.  It's  goin'  to  be  warm." 


108  21  JHember  of  %  Sljirtr 

"  Oh,  I  must  go,  mother.  It's  a  very  impor- 
tant time  just  now  —  everybody's  tryin'  to  rush 
bills  through,  and  I  must  be  there.  I'll  be  home 
early,  though.  I'll  come  home  right  after  the 
session." 

"Well,  now,  don't  worry  —  an'  don't  walk 
about  them  hot  streets  any  more'n  you  can 
help." 

"No,  I'll  come  right  home." 

They  moved  about  him,  fixing  his  necktie  and 
brushing  his  hat. 

"  Evy,  it  don't  seem  to  me  you're  very  well 
this  mornin'  ?  "  he  said,  as  he  was  about  to  go. 

"Oh,  I'm  all  right,  father,  just  a  little  lazy; 
that's  all.  Run  along,  now,  if  you're  going  to 
catch  that  boat.  If  you  lose  that  you'll  have  to 
ride  in  that  hot  train.  Come,  skip  !"  she  ended, 
striking  her  hands  together  and  smiling. 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her.  "  You're  my 
blessed  little  girl.  I'll  come  back  early,  sure." 

After  he  had  gone,  there  were  few  smiles  in 
the  room.  Mrs.  Ward  worked  about  the  house 
—  she  couldn't  sit  still  —  while  Evelyn  sewed 
steadily  as  a  seamstress,  except  once  or  twice 
she  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  closed  her  eyes 
wearily.  Mrs.  Ward  saw  her  thus,  but  dared  not 
speak  to  her.  Once  when  she  saw  her  leaning 
back  thus  with  shut  eyes,  she  detected  a  tear 


21  Jttembtr  of  ti)t  Sljirb  tyonst.  109 

slipping  down  the  musing  girl's  cheek  !  It  was 
too  much  for  her  to  bear,  and  she  rose  and  went 
out,  leaving  Evelyn  alone. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE    SUNDAY    PAPERS. 

r'PHE  Sunday  morning  papers  were  filled  with 
the  investigation  —  twenty-column  short- 
hand reports  of  the  proceedings,  while  the  opin- 
ions of  leading  men  and  politicians  and  editorial 
comments  filled  pretty  nearly  the  entire  news 
department  of  the  issues.  But  there  was  notice- 
able a  great  change  in  the  editorials.  On  the 
first  day  or  two  of  the  hearing,  even  the  papers 
opposed  to  Tuttle  politically,  breathed  out  a  gentle 
defiance  toward  the  "great  corporations  dominat- 
ing our  legislative  halls,"  and  had  a  good  word 
for  "the  courage  of  the  young  radical  who  was 
determined  to  see  just  how  much  there  was  in 
this  boasted  power  of  the  Third  House." 

It  went  further,  this  opposition  press,  and 
said  :  "//"such  use  had  been  made  of  the  Third 
House  (which  every  legislator  admitted  existed) 
as  had  been  charged,  no  punishment  could  be 
too  severe  for  the  debauchers  of  public  morals." 

But  this  righteous  indignation  grew  more  and 
more  retiring  from  day  to  day,  and,  as  Tuttle 
read  the  Sunday  morning  papers,  he  found  him- 


31  ittonbo:  of  %  ®t)iri  §zmt.  ill 

self  characterized  as  a  "  self-sufficient  young-  ass, 
who,  on  the  mere  hearsay  evidence  of  blacklegs 
and  heelers,  had  involved  the  Senate  in  a  miser- 
able investigation  which  would  place  the  legis- 
lators as  a  body  under  the  derision  of  the  Amer- 
ican people." 

His  own  papers  "regretted  that  he  did  not 
make  himself  more  certain  of  his  ground  before 
entering  into  such  a  grave  fight  with  a  great 
corporation."  They  hurled  back  with  scorn  the 
imputation  that  it  was  partisan  in  effect,  and  left 
Tuttle  to  stand  alone  as  the  investigator  and 
persecutor  of  the  whole  matter  "against  the  ad- 
vice of  friends." 

As  Tuttle  read  these  shifty,  treacherous  quali- 
fyings  and  hedgings,  he  grew  white  with  wrath. 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  to  Hill,  one  of  the  faith- 
ful, who  was  taking  breakfast  with  him,  "my 
own  papers  go  back  on  me.  That  shows 
the  power  of  money.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that 
these  papers  were  bought  outright,  but  I  mean 
that  the  moment  a  doubt  creeps  in,  they  do  the 
safest  thing — condemn  the  man  whose  friend- 
ship is  worth  the  least  to  them." 

Hill  was  disposed  to  take  a  gloomy  view 
of  it. 

"Give  it  up,  Tuttle  —  no  use!  The  people 
ain't  ready  to  stand  by  us  yet.  Throw  the 


112  31  Jttember  of  ttye  Stjtrtr 

whole  damn  thing  up.  We  can  stand  it  if  the 
public  can." 

"  I  won't  throw  it  up,"  Tuttle  cried,  with  a 
look  of  iron  resolution  on  his  face.  "And  I  will 
convict." 

"  You  can't  unless  you  can  get  some  member 
to  swear  he  was  approached  by" 

"If  I  could  involve  Brennan,  or  Fox — he's 
just  the  man  to  squeak  when  he  found  himself 
in  for  it.  Then  the  public  " 

"Oh,  you'd  find  the  public  with  you  fast 
enough  then  !  They  are  terribly  alarmed  over 
injuries  to  vested  rights,  but  a  man  has  no 
vested  rights  the  moment  he  is  believed  to  be 
helpless.  My  idea  is  to  corral  Pat  Murnahan  — 
or  one  of  the  lesser  fellows." 

Sunday  was  a  busy  day  with  the  members  of 
the  Third  House  also.  The  Hilliard  lobby  was 
full  of  men  discussing  the  investigation,  and  in 
Brennan's  office  a  council  of  war  was  being  held. 

Brennan  was  in  his  usual  mood,  but  Fox  was 
a  little  nervous,  and  the  Hon.  Robert  Binney, 
the  counsel  for  their  defense,  was  businesslike. 
He  was  a  short  man,  with  a  very  bald  head.  He 
had  been  told  at  one  time  that  he  looked  like 
Ingersoll,  and  thereafter  he  wore  his  face  cleanly 
shaven.  He  was  very  able  and  vastly  learned 


21  iHroibo:  of  tlje  Sljirir  $0n0e.  113 

in  law,  but  he  spoke  with  a  drawling-  "York 
State  dialect,"  as  the  Western  people  call  it, 
that  is,  a  strong  nasal,  with  many  elisions. 

"Waal,  now,  don't  tell  me  too  much,"  he  said, 
interrupting  Brennan.  "There's  such  a  thing  as 
bein'  embarrassed  with  knowledge.  You  are 
willin' to  admit  you  paid  the  Third  House  —  I 
understand  that.  You  considered  that  legiti- 
mate. What  they  did,  you  don't  know,  of 
course." 

"That's  the  idea,"  said  Brennan. 

"Exactly.  Well,  naow,  jest  let  me  have  a 
minute." 

It  was  an  interesting  process  this,  of  giving 
the  attorney  just  enough  of  the  truth  to  let  him 
see  their  weak  points,  and  yet  not  enough  so 
that  he  could  be  charged  with  collusion.  A 
long  experience  had  made  him  an  adept  in  this, 
and  his  really  powerful  mind  seized  the  whole 
situation  by  that  subtle  "winged  logic"  which 
had  made  him  one  of  the  most  famous  lawyers 
of  his  day.  Like  thousands  of  others,  he  had 
come  to  take  a  pride  in  his  power  to  defeat 
justice. 

"Our  plan  of  action  must  be  like  the  ground- 
hog—  stay  in  our  hole  an'  let  the  daug  paw 
dirt,"  he  said  at  length.  "Set  still  an'  watch 


'em." 


114  21  Jttembn-  of  %  Styrb 

"  It's  slow  work,"  said  Brennan.  "  I  don't  like 
the  idea  myself.  Relatively  it's  all  right,  but  it's 
wearin'  on  the  nerves  to  sit  at  the  end  of  a  hole 
and  listen  to  the  dog  pawing." 

''Waal,  I  guess  you'll  haf  to  stand  it,"  said 
Binney  as  he  went  out. 

Left  alone,  the  three  men  talked  plainer. 
Davis  was  plainly  very  nervous.  "I  wish  the 
whole  thing  was  sunk,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  no  y'  don't,"  said  Fox.  "  You're  a  little 
worn,  that's  all.  You'd  better  run  down  to  the 
beach  for  the  day  and  get  a  little  rest.  Tom 
and  I  will  get  hold  of  the  other  fellows  and  fix 
them  ready  for  the  testimony.  Leave  that  in 
my  hands.  Our  policy  is  to  admit  the  payment 
of  money  to  the  Third  House,  pleading  that 
circumstances  made  it  necessary." 
*"  And  that's  true,  too,"  broke  in  Davis. 

"  Of  course  it's  true,"  echoed  Fox.  "  Now, 
that's  all  right.  Tom  and  I  will  see  that  our 
front  is  unbroken.  Every  witness  will  be  pre- 
pared. Not  one  of  'em  but  knows  how  to  take 
care  of  himself.  Nothing  is  easier  than  to  fool 
the  poor  public." 

While  the  "poor,  feeble-minded  fool  of  a  pub- 
lic" was  reading  its  Sunday  newspaper  or  going 
to  church  with  its  wife  and  daughter,  the  Third 
House  was  organizing,  toiling,  with  that  zeal 


21  JHember  of  tlje  Sl/irir  §ou0e.  115 

which  makes  any  toil  a  pleasure  and  a  success, 
to  perfect  their  defense.  The  easy-going-,  habit- 
mastered  public  is  disorganized,  nerveless, 
wordy  and  with  little  energy  or  concert  of 
action,  but  the  evil  forces  of  society  are  always 
organized,  always  alert,  and  move  as  one  man. 
It  is  the  exceptional  case  where  they  can  be 
caught  off  their  guard,  or  surprised  in  a  mo- 
ment of  relaxation. 

Tuttle  realized  perfectly  the  position  of  the 
defense,  and,  as  he  sat  alone  after  breakfast,  he 
went  all  over  the  ground.  He  set  his  teeth  in 
the  resolve  to  vindicate  himself.  He  deter- 
mined that  if  he  was  to  be  held  personally 
responsible  for  the  charges  which  had  really 
been  made  by  everybody,  he  would  have  the 
honor  of  proving  them  true. 

All  day  he  thought  upon  his  line  of  action  — 
tried  to  discover  some  mode  of  attack  not  abso- 
lutely hopeless. 

A  few  of  his  friends  dropped  in,  but  they 
could  do  very  little ;  in  fact,  most  of  them  ad- 
vised him  to  give  it  up. 

"  They'll  only  make  a  laughing-stock  of  you, 
Wilson,  and  it  will  do  no  good.  They're  going 
to  make  it  a  political  fight  if  possible.  They're 
going  to  try  to  ruin  you  before  your  constitu- 
ents." 


116  21  itlember  of  %  Styrb 

Tuttle  was  roused.  "  Let  'em  try  it.  I'll 
fight  it  to  the  bitter  end.  If  you'd  only  stand 
by  me.  You  believe  them  guilty?" 

"Yes,  no  doubt  of  it." 

"Then  why  don't  you  stand  by  me?"  They 
shrugged  their  shoulders.  "If  you,  and  all  like 
you,  would  stand  by  me,"  cried  Tuttle  passion- 
ately, "we  could  defy  the  power  of  the  Consoli- 
dated or  any  other  corporation.  It's  because 
people  will  not  speak  out" 

"What's  the  good  of  speaking  out  if  you 
can't  prove  anything.  You  can't  prove  any- 
thing unless  some  fellow  turns  State's  evidence, 
and  there's  no  possibility  of  that." 

They  left  Tuttle  studying  on  that  problem  — 
how  to  get  evidence  that  would  convict.  In  the 
afternoon,  as  he  took  the  boat  for  Waterside,  he 
was  still  racking  his  brain  upon  the  problem. 
He  had  half-formed  a  wild  plan  of  going  to 
Sheehan  and  attempting  to  buy  his  evidence. 
He  was  willing  to  sacrifice  half  of  his  little 
fortune.  Nonsense  !  What  an  idea  !  He  must 
be  going  crazy.  He  tried  to  throw  it  off  by 
looking  out  upon  the  dazzling  water,  fringed 
with  the  green  hills,  which  reached  into  the  bay 
like  the  caress  of  a  lover's  hand.  But  he  could 
not  escape  it.  A  group  of  men  came  by  and 
asked  him  about  the  trial.  Everybody  pointed 


21  JHnnber  of  tlje  Sfytrir  ^on0e.  117 

him  out — he  thought  he  heard  them  laughing 
at  him. 

One  fellow,  a  drummer,  stayed  a  moment 
after  the  rest  passed  on. 

"  Tuttle,  why  don't  y'  strike  old  Senator  Ward 
a  little  harder  ?"  he  said.  "  I  heard  the  old  man 
talkin'  pretty  loud  the  other  day,  and  he  said 
some  pretty  damaging  things.  Of  course  he 
was  drunk,  but  he  don't  say  such  things  just 
because  he's  drunk.  Now,  I  ain't  got  any  par- 
ticular interest  in  this  thing.  I  don't  live  here 
anyhow,  but  damned  if  I  like  to  see  the  whole 
town  jumpin'  on  a  man's  neck,  'specially  when 
I'm  dead  sure  he's  right." 

"  How  do  you  know  I'm  right?"  Tuttle 
asked  of  the  free-spoken  drummer. 

"  In  the  nature  of  things  a  man  who  fights  one 
o'  these  monopolies  must  be  right — that's  all. 
We're  all  down  on  'em,  but  we  ain't  got  sand  to 
fight  'em.  If  he  was  approached,  the  Senator 
might  be  induced  to  talk.  It's  worth  trying 
anyway." 

"What  kind  of  a  plea  could  I  make  to  Ward 
that  would  induce  him  to  criminate  himself?" 
replied  Tuttle,  not  without  sarcasm. 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  the  old  man  was  actually 
bribed,  but  I  think  he  was  approached,  and  I 
think  he  knows  of  others  who  were.  In  other 


118  21  JHembn:  of  tfje  Sljtrb 

words,  he's  what  I  call  the  clue-end  o'  the  whole 
snarl.  He's  y'r  man.  All  you  want  is  to  find 
the  loose  end,  and  that  will  lead  to  the  center  of 
the  thing-.  One  man  will  criminate  another." 

This  made  a  deep  impression  upon  Tuttle,  and 
he  rode  the  rest  of  the  way  in  deep  thought 
along  that  definite  line  of  action.  If  he  could 
not  reach  some  man  like  Ward,  his  case  was 
desperate.  He  determined  to  see  Ward  that 
night,  and  make  an  appeal  to  him. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN   EVENING    CALL. 

TN  an  easy-chair,  in  the  large  plain  sitting-room, 
1  Senator  Ward  was  sitting  that  night  when 
the  sun  went  down  behind  the  sharply-defined 
clouds,  and  darkness  came  over  the  water.  The 
wind  was  blowing  steadily,  and  the  waves  had  a 
steady  thundering  roll  that  ended  in  an  impa- 
tient swash  and  a  clutching  snarl.  The  light- 
ning, distant  and  diffusive,  came  now  and  then 
to  light  the  old  man's  gray  head  faintly. 

He  had  been  writing,  but  the  portfolio  had 
fallen  to  his  knees,  and,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
dreamily  on  the  line  where  the  clouds  and  the 
water  met,  he  brooded  over  some  sad  thought. 
He  looked  very  weak  and  old  and  humble  as  he 
sat  there.  He  had  only  simple  dignity  at  his 
best,  and  the  name  of  Senator  could  not  save  him 
now  from  being  the  harassed  old  man  that  he 
was,  with  no  son  to  share  his  toil  and  anxieties. 

He  was  facing  his  almost  hopeless  future.  He 
had  gone  over  the  ground  for  the  hundredth 
time.  He  couldn't  meet  that  payment,  and  it 
would  mean  a  forced  sale  of  all  he  had  and  a  loss 


120  21  jttembn-  of  tlje  Sljirlr 

so  great,  recovery  would  be  impossible.  Then 
his  mind  went  back  to  his  interview  with  Bren- 
nan,  and  he  tried  to  remember  what  was  said, 
but  it  was  all  hazy  and  vague. 

On  the  floor  beside  him  lay  the  morning 
papers,  containing  his  own  testimony  and  that  of 
many  others.  He  sat  there  till  it  grew  too  dusk  ' 
to  read,  his  eyes  on  the  light  outside.  Mrs. 
Ward  came  in  with  a  match  to  light  the  lamp. 
She  gave  a  quick  glance  at  him  and  hesitated 
a  moment  as  if  uncertain  whether  to  speak  or 
not. 

"  Why,  Rufus,  how  quiet  you  are  !  What  are 
you  doing?  I  didn't  know  you  was  here." 

"I've  been  writing  a  little,  my  dear." 

"Why  don't  you  go  to  your  liberry?" 

"  Oh,  I  d'  know.  I  kind  o'  wanted  to  be 
where  I  could  look  out  on  the  water." 

Mrs.  Ward  took  a  seat  by  his  side.  "  You're 
worryin'  again,  Rufus,  an'  you  promised  us  you 
wouldn't." 

"Yes,  I  am  worryin',  Josephine,  but  not  about 
my  business.  That  is,  not  what  you  mean." 

"  You  ain't  a- worryin'  about  that  investigatin' 
committee,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  am,  to  tell  the  truth.  I'm  worried 
about  that." 


51  HUmber  of  tlje  Sljirb  (Sjmw.  121 

"  But  you've  testified.  Ain't  that  all  you've 
got  to  do  about  it  ? " 

"No,  it  ain't,  Josephine.  I  ought  to  do 
somethin'  else,  but  I — can't.  I  ain't  got  the 
courage."  He  rose  and  walked  about  un- 
steadily. 

"There,  there,  Rufus  !  Set  down.  I  didn't 
mean  to  stir  you  up.  I  wish  't  Wilson  Tuttle 
hadn't  never  been  born." 

"  No,  you  don't,  mother.  You  don't  mean 
any  such  thing." 

"I  do,  too!  He  don't  do  nothin'  but  make 
trouble  everywhere  he  goes." 

"He's  all  right,  mother.  He's  only  doin'  his 
duty.  If  he  hadn't  started  this  investigation 
somebody  else  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  s'much —  I  don't  mean 
that 't  all!" 

"What  do  you  mean,  then  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know?  Ain't  y'  seen?"  inquired 
his  wife  sharply. 

"No.     What?     I  ain't  seen  anything." 

"  Oh,  dear !  Men  ain't  got  any  eyes  'cept 
for  business,"  she  exclaimed  in  despair.  "Evy 
has  been  cryin'  her  eyes  out  for  that  wooden- 
headed,  dictionary-spoken  thing  all  this  week. 
I  can't  persuade  'er" 


122  21  JHembur  of  tl)e  Sfyirb 

Ward  looked  up  at  her  helplessly.  "  You 
don't  mean  she's  " 

"That's  exactly  what  I  do  mean — just  that,"  she 
replied,  looking  at  him  defiantly. 

"  Why,  I  was  afraid  she  was  kind  o'  taking  up 
with  Tom  Brennan,"  exclaimed  the  Senator. 

"  Tom  Brennan  !  "  replied  Mrs.  Ward,  in  vast 
disdain.  "Well,  I  give  up,  Senator  Ward!  I 
thought  you  had  some  sense.  Tom  Brennan  ! 
An'  here  she's  be'n  worshipin'  that  book-worm 
an'  walkin'  up  an'  down  the  beach  with  him,  an1 
learnin'  him  to  play  tennis  all  this  while  !  An' 
you  ain't  seen  it  !  Course,  she's  kind  o'  held 
in,  for  she  was  afraid  he  liked  Helene  Davis,  an* 
I  guess  he  does,  but  Helene,  she  likes  Brennan, 
though  why,  I  can't  see.  He's  too  oily  and 
good-natured,  that  man  is,  for  me.  He  makes 
me  think  o'  Cy  Williams.  I  wouldn't  be  a  bit 
surprised  if  he  skipped  out  to  Canada  same  as 
Cy  did.  He's  in  the  parlor  there  now,  he  an' 
Helene  both.  Thank  goodness  !  they're  about 
ready  to  go.  I  wish  he'd  never  come  back,  fur's 
I'm  concerned." 

"And  so  you  think  Evy  kind  o'" 

"I  don't  think  anything  about  it.  I  know  it. 
She  ain't  one  o'  the  kind  that  lets  on,  but  she's 
just  eatin'  her  heart  out  alone.  An'  she  won't 
talk  to  me  —  hushes  me  right  up."  Her  voice 


21  JHnnba:  of  tl)c  Sljirir  jS)ou0£.  123 

broke,  and  she  was  obliged  to  wipe  her  eyes. 
"  It  does  seem  as  if  everything  was  criss-cross 
in  this  world,  Rufus.  After  we've  worked  an* 

saved  s'  many  years" She  broke  off  to 

keep  from  sobbing.  "If  you  hadn't  gone  into 
politics  we'd  'a'  be'n  better  off,  a  good  sight." 

Ward  acknowledged  the  justice  of  her  re- 
proach with  a  sigh.  "You're  right,  Josephine." 
Then  he  asked  a  question  in  a  tone  that  seemed 
to  ask  assurance.  "But  now  I'm  in  politics  I 
ought  to  serve  my  State  faithfully,  hadn't  I  ?" 

"Course!  They's  nothin'  else  you  can  do. 
If,  after  all  you've  sacrificed,  you  don't  serve 
your  State  faithfully,  I  don't  see  but  what  you'd 
be  a  reg'lar  failure;  Rufus.  Elder  White  used 
to  say  :  '  Long's  a  man's  honest  he  ain't  a  fail- 
ure. Guv'ment  may  be  a  failure,  but  he  ain't." 
Ward  groaned  and  dropped  his  head  on  his 
hands. 

"Why,  Rufus,  what's  the  matter?  What 
have  I  said  now  ?  " 

"Nothin',  mother.  It's  what  I've  said  and 
done — I've  been  a  failure  and  a  disgrace  to 
you,  Josephine." 

"  You  ain't  neither,  Rufus  Ward,  now  !  Don't 
you  say  that  ag'in." 

"  If  I  was  out  o'  this,  I  never'd  go  into  poli- 
tics ag'in.  I'm  afraid  I  never'll  git  out." 


124  $  Jttemfor  of  %  Sljtri  <§otJ0t. 

"There,  there  !  Don't  worry  any  more  to- 
night, Rufus.  Sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof." 

Her  own  eyes  were  wet,  and  she  put 
her  hand  tenderly  on  his  shoulder.  There 
was  a  burst  of  laughter  in  the  hall,  and  Evelyn 
and  Brennan,  going  by,  stopped  and  looked  in 
at  the  door-way. 

"Ah,  I  fear  we  intrude  upon  a  lovers'  tete-a- 
tete/'  cried  Brennan.  "I'm  sure  of  it.  They're 
both  blushing." 

"  I  guess  not,"  laughed  Helene.  "The  blush 
is  on  the  Senator's  white  hair,  so  it  must  be  the 
shade  of  the  lamp.  I'm  sorry  to  spoil  your 
romance." 

"We're  more  likely  to  be  quarrelin'  than 
courtin'  at  our  time  o'  life,"  said  Mrs.  Ward, 
smilelessly.  "The  romance  is  pretty  well  faded 
out  o'  things  with  us." 

"Why,  mother!  You  know  you  never  quar- 
rel." 

"  Not  that  you  see,  probably." 

"  I  try  to  quarrel  sometimes,"  said  the  Sena- 
tor, "but  it  takes  two,  you  know,  and  so  I 
can't." 

"I  generally  find  there's  two  of  us  when  I 
want  to  quarrel,"  said  Brennan.  A  distant  light- 


21  JHnuber  of  tlje  Sljirir  <§0n0*,  125 

ning  flash  lighted  the  room,  and  was  followed, 
after  a  moment,  by  a  mutter  of  thunder. 

"Oh,  what  a  frightful  flash!"  Helene  cried. 
"  Tom,  take  me  home  this  minute.  Thunder 
makes  me  frantic." 

"I  like  to  escort  girls  home  in  a  thunder- 
storm," said  Brennan  to  Ward.  "  They're  so 
confiding.  They  cling  to  one's  arm  like  a  bar- 
nacle. Come  on !  Now  for  a  run !  Good 
night,  all." 

Ward  went  with  them  into  the  hall  and  out  on 
the  porch  as  they  ran  across  the  lawn. 

" She's  pretty  gay,  ain't  she?"  said  Mrs. 
Ward  to  Evelyn.  "  She  don't  have  to  worry 
over  debts  and  investigatin'  committees.  Seems 
if  everything  was  bearin'  down  on  your  father 
these  days."- 

"But  Helene  ain't  quite  happy  for  all  that. 
She's  trying  to  be  gay.  I  don't  think  she's 
sincere  in  it." 

"  Why,  what  makes  you  think  that  ?  " 

"She's  quarreled  with  Wilson,  or,  rather, 
broken  with  him." 

"  You  don't  say  !  What  about,  for  pity's 
sake  ? " 

"Oh,  about  this  investigating  committee." 

"  For  Peter's  sake !  Well,  I  hope  Wilson 
Tuttle  feels  he's  right,  for  it's  gettin'  him  into 


126  21  itiembcr  of  tlje 

hot  water  all  round.  So  that's  the  reason  she's 
so  sweet  on  Tom  Brennan  ?  Well,  well  !  An' 
now  there  won't  neither  of  you  have  him." 

"  Hush  !  Why,  mother,  do  you  know  how 
that  sounds  !  Besides,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  talk 
about  it  at  all  just  now.  I'll  be  able  to  bear  it 
better  after  a  while.  But  he's  very  noble  in 
this.  He  told  me  all  about  it.  He's  simply 
standing  for  truth  and  justice ;  even  the  papers 
admit  that." 

"  Well,  I  wish  she  was  worth  the  trouble,  but 
it's  always  the  way  with  a  man  like  that.  Ten 
chances  to  one  he  takes  up  with  some  little  bit 
of  a  rattle-headed" 

Evelyn  stopped  her  again. 

"  Don't,  mother  !  Helene  isn't  so  petty  as  she 
seems.  She's  really  noble  at  heart.  With  him 
she'd  grow  to  be  a  good,  true  woman." 

"  Good,  true  fiddlesticks  !  All  she'll  ever  grow 
into  is  a  chatterbox.  She  ain't  got  brains  enough 
for  anything  else."  She  ended  full  of  maternal 
rebellion  at  the  course  of  things. 

"  Why,  mother,  how  can  you  say  such  dread- 
ful things  ?  " 

Ward  was  heard  talking  to  some  one  at  the 
door.  "  Come  in  !  come  in  !" 

"Pa's  got  company.     Guess   we'd  better  va- 


31  Jllember  of  %  ®l)irb  QMS*.  127 

moose,"  said  Mrs.  Ward,  "  we  ain't  either  of  us  fit 
to  be  seen." 

Ward  returned  with  Davis,  whose  quick  eye 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  vanishing  women. 

"  Hope  I  didn't  scare  anybody  away." 

"Oh,  I  guess  not.  Take  a  chair.  I'll  light 
another  burner." 

"Oh,  no,  no!  This  is  all  right.  Just  the 
kind  of  a  light  for  two  reminiscent  old  chaps  to 
talk  by." 

He  was.  in  a  peculiarly  complaisant,  almost 
tender,  mood  —  not  posing  as  a  great  financier, 
nor  apparently  concerned  about  his  interests  as  a 
monopolist.  He  stretched  his  legs  out  before 
him  in  a  restful  position,  leaned  his  head  back  on 
his  chair,  and  talked  familiarly  as  a  neighbor. 
He  was  country-born  himself,  and  knew  that 
nothing  was  so  flattering  as  this  assumption  of 
homely  ease. 

Ward  was  puzzled  by  it.  For,  although  they 
had  been  neighbors  here  for  two  seasons,  Davis 
had  never  before  entered  his  house  except  in  an 
entirely  business  way.  They  had  nodded  daily, 
of  course,  and  discussed  events  of  the  morning, 
as  they  rode  up  on  the  boat  or  down  on  the 
train  in  the  afternoon,  but  this  neighborliness 
was  something  new,  and  had  a  disarming  charm 
(coming  from  the  great  Iron  Duke)  which  was 


128  31  Jttembr  of  tlje  Sfyirb 

hard  to  resist,  though  he  knew  that  he  scruple< 
at  nothing  to  carry  his  point. 

"Ah,  my  bones  ain't  what  they  used  to  lx 
strange  to  say,  Senator.  I'm  older  than  yoi 
are,  d'you  know  it  ?  I'm  sixty.  Come,  now 
that's  two  or  three  years  more  than  you  cai 
record." 

''Yes,  I'm  only  fifty-nine." 

"You're  looking  considerably  under  th 
weather,  Senator,"  said  Davis,  after  a  littl 
silence. 

"I'm  feeling  that  way.  Fact  is,  business  mat 
ters  are  worryin'  me  a  little.  Have  been  fo 
some  time." 

"So  I've  heard.  Well,  I'm  a  little  annoyei 
these  days  myself  at  this  business  up  at  th 
Capitol  building.  In  fact,  I'm  a  good  deal  dis 
turbed.  I  don't  like  the  way  the  public  take  i 
up.  What  did  they  do  to-day,  anyhow,  at  Tut 
tie's  little  farce-comedy?"  he  asked  in  an  indii 
ferent  way. 

"Not  much  of  anything,"  replied  Ward  evas 
ively.  "  Examined  a  few  unimportant  wit 


nesses." 


"  Well,  just  how  is  the  Senate  feeling?" 
Ward  stiffened  a  little.     "  I  don't  think  I'm  a 
liberty  to  state." 

Davis  leaned  over  as  if  in  a  burst  of  confidence 


21  JHontar  of  tlje  Sljtrir  fywst.  129 

f<  I  don't  mind  saying,  Senator,  that  I'm  damn- 
ably worried.  It  may  lose  us  the  charter.  But 
you  senators  ought  to  see  that  we're  the  only 
men  that  can  build  the  road.  We're  here  on  the 
ground.  No  other  arrangement  can  serve  the 
people  as  well.  We  make  better  connections, 
save  fares.  If  you're  working  for  the  people's 
good,  you'll  work  for  us.  You're  bound  to." 

"That  may  be  so,  from  your  point  of  view,  but 
from  mine" 

"  There's  no  other  point  of  view  for  you,  as  a 
representative  of  the  public.  If  you  refuse  to 
work  with  us,  you  simply  delay  the  building  of  a 
road  for  ten  years.  Now  let's  go  over  the 
ground  " 

Ward  rose.  "  It's  no  use  to  argue  with  me, 
Davis.  I've  been  all  over  the  ground.  There 
ain't  anything  more  to  say." 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is,  Senator,  lots  to  say.  Now, 
I'd  like  to  make  a  proposition  to  you.  Sit  down  ! 
Now,  it's  all  nonsense  to  object  to  a  thing  like 
that.  The  public  can't  see  ahead.  They  don't 
know  what's  the  best  thing  to  do.  If  they  did, 
we  wouldn't  find  it  necessary  to  do  this.  Now, 
take  these  senators.  Many  of  them  are  old  gran- 
nies, superannuated  country  lawyers.  You  know 
that,  and  they  need  to  be  led  by  men  like  your- 
self. Now;  if  you'll  —  if  you'll  go  into  this  thing 


130  21  Jttembn-  of  tlje  ®l)iri  (jjou0e. 

with  us,  I'll  take  half  your  business  on  my 
hands,  and  make  you  a  stockholder  to  that 
amount  in  the  road.  Come  !  That's  the  way  all 
business  is  carried  on  these  days.  Perfectly 
legitimate.  I  don't  approach  you  as  a  senator, 
but  as  a  man  and  a  neighbor,  and,  besides,  the 
thing  I  ask  you  to  do  is  a  real  service  to  the 
public."  It  was  astonishing  how  necessary, 
almost  honorable,  his  voice  made  this  appear,  he 
was  so  frank  and  honest. 

"  Give  me  time  to  think,  Davis,"  said  Ward, 
weakly.  "  It's  too  much  to  expect  of  me  off- 
hand." 

Davis  reached  over  and  touched  his  knee. 

"  Senator,  as  man  to  man,  I  want  to  be  per- 
fectly frank  with  you.  The  loss  of  this  charter 
may  ruin  my  road.  We've  been  building  on  our 
original  line,  changing  grades,  renewing  bridges, 
and  so  forth,  and  we've  borrowed  largely  this 
year  —  borrowed  big  money.  If  anything  were  to 
happen  to  make  people  —  capitalists — lose  confi- 
dence in  the  road,  or  in  me,  we'd  be  in  the  hands 
of  a  receiver  in  thirty  days.  It  would  be  a  ter- 
rible injustice  to  us,  and  especially  to  our  small 
stockholders  and  employes.  Just  imagine  the 
condition  of  things  if  we  fail.  Now,  let's  work 
together.  Come,  —  what  do  you  say  ? " 


31  Hfcmbtr  of  tlje  Sljirir  fjoti0e.  131 

He  waited  while  Ward  mused  with  downcast 
head. 

"  Give  me  time,  Davis.  You  press  me  too 
hard.  I  —  I  can't  decide  now." 

"Very  well.  Only  the  vote  comes  soon. 
This  investigation  will  fall  through.  It's  annoy- 
ing, but  not  dangerous.  Can't  you  decide  to- 
morrow ?" 

"  Yes,  I'll  try.  But  I  don't  think  I  can  influ- 
ence anybody." 

"  I'll  take  the  risk,  Senator,"  said  Davis, 
rising  and  extending  his  hand,  which  Ward  took 
hesitatingly.  "I'll  see  you  to-morrow  night. 
Come  to  my  office  at  five,  and  we'll  come  down 
together.  Good  night." 


CHAPTER   X. 

"l    WILL    TESTIFY." 

WARD  returned  to  his  seat  by  the  table. 
He  sighed  deeply,  at  last  rose  and  walked 
o  the  window.  As  he  stood  there  looking  out 
nto  the  night,  watching  the  far-off  display  of 
;ilent  lightning,  a  knock  came  on  the  door,  and 
Evelyn  asked: 

"May  I  come  in,  father ?" 

"Yes,  my  dear." 

"Are  you  alone?"  she  asked,  looking  about. 
5he  studied  his  face. 

"Not  now,  dear;  I've  got  you."  He  put  his 
irm  about  her  waist.  Evelyn  was  very  sober. 
'  Wilson  wishes  to  see  you,  father." 

"To  see  me?     Anything  in  particular?" 

"I  think  so,  but  I  don't  know." 

There  was  a  little  pause,  and  Ward  said: 

"Tell  him  to  come  in." 

Evelyn  went  to  the  door  and  said,  "  Mr.  Tut- 
;le,  father  is  alone  now."  The  subtle  change 
rom  "Wilson"  to  "Mr.  Tuttle"  was  not  lost 
jpon  the  Senator,  now  that  he  was  made  sensi- 


132 


21  fttnnbcr  of  tlje  Sljirir  fi)cm0e.  133 

tive  to  the  situation.  His  heart  turned  from  his 
own  trouble  to  hers. 

Tuttle  entered  with  hat  and  stick  in  his  hand. 
The  men  greeted  each  other  rather  coldly, 
Ward  pushing  forward  a  chair. 

"You  want  to  see  me?" 

"Yes,  alone,"  replied  Tuttle,  still  standing. 

"Oh,  I'll  go,  then,"  exclaimed  Evelyn. 

Ward  reached  out  a  hand  to  detain  her.  He 
seemed  to  need  her  presence.  "No,  my  girl 
knows  all  my  business.  There  are  —  few  secrets 
between  us.  Go  on,  sir,  what  is  it?"  Evelyn 
stood  beside  him.  Her  heart  beat  with  appre- 
hension. 

Tuttle  bowed  and  took  a  chair,  and  began  to 
speak  in  a  formal  way,  slightly  oratorical,  as  if 
the  echoes  of  his  recent  speech  were  still  in  his 
tone  and  words. 

"Senator,  when  I  rose  in  the  House  and 
charged  the  Senate  with  corrupt  practices,  you 
will  remember  I  said  that  it  was  in  the  hope 
that  the  charge  —  which  was  not  mine  —  would 
be  refuted.  Men  and  papers  had  clamored  in 
my  ear  for  some  such  open  statement  of  what 
they  were  saying  or  hinting.  Of  course,  I 
knew  that  you  and  your  brethren  would  escape 
any  taint ;  that  as  honest  men  you  courted  inves- 
tigation. Your  testimony  last  Tuesday  was  in 


134  21  JHembo:  of  tf)e  Sljirtr  fi)cmsc. 

the  main  what  I  expected  from  you,  but  at  the 
end  of  four  days,  the  committee,  without  having 
found  anything  conclusive  about  bribery,  have 
proved  to  the  public  and  myself  that  the  Con- 
solidated Air  Line  Railway  has  bought  its  way 
boldly  and  adroitly  to  its  present  point." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  Mr.  Davis  has" 

asked  Evelyn. 

"  I  don't  know  how  much  he  knows  of  the 
work,  but  I  regard  Fox  and  Brennan  as  danger- 
ous men.  The  public  now  comes  back  upon 
me,  because  I  can  find  no  case.  Of  course,  we 
all  know  that,  were  the  criminals  actually  before 
us,  their  only  course  would  be  to  deny  in  toto" 
He  paused  an  instant,  looked  straight  at  Ward, 
and  said,  in  a  low  voice:  " Senator,  I  think  Miss 
Ward  had  better  leave  us." 

"  No,  now  I'm  going  to  stay  and  hear  you 
out,"  replied  Evelyn. 

Senator  Ward  shivered,  as  if  a  cold  blast 
touched  him.  "  Let  her  remain.  Go  on." 

"Very  well.  Now,  Senator,  slander  is  busy 
with  your  name." 

"My  name?     What  do  they  say?" 

"How  dare  they  slander  him?"  demanded 
Evelyn,  her  face  full  of  indignation. 

Tuttle  rose  involuntarily,  with  the  growing 
excitement.  His  fine,  serious  face  was  full  of 


21  JUnnbtr  of  tlje  Sljirir  ijjottst.  135 

pain.  "They  say  you  know  of  senators  who 
have  been  bribed.  They  say  that — under  the 
influence  of — of  liquor" 

Ward  turned  his  eyes  for  a  moment  upon  Eve- 
lyn, then  turned  his  head  toward  the  window. 
His  face,  pathetically  drawn,  moved Tuttle  almost 
to  tears. 

"  Pardon  me,  Senator,"  Tuttle  said,  with  deep 
feeling,  "I'm  only  repeating" 

Ward  faced  him  again.  "  Go  on,  sir;  I  under- 
stand." 

Evelyn  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  The  miserable 
creatures  !  How  can  they  !  "  Angry  tears  were 
in  her  eyes. 

Tuttle  went  on  slowly.  "They  say  that  you 
have  boasted  of  having  been  approached  by  an 
agent  of  the  Consolidated  ;  that,  if  you  would, 
you  could  testify  in  such  a  way  as  to  give  us  a 
hold  upon  the  unscrupulous  scoundrels  who  pro- 
fess to  carry  both  houses  in  their  pockets.  Sen- 
ator," he  went  on,  with  a  fervor  of  appeal,  "  I 
stand  here  to-night  to  say  that  if  you  can  strike 
a  blow  at  these  men,  you  should  do  it,  for  God's 
sake  and  Truth's  sake." 

Ward,  deeply  affected,  looked  away  again, 
and  faltered  in  a  low  voice,  "Betray  my  col- 
leagues ! " 

"  If  you  don't,  you  betray  your   State  !  "  was 


136  21  Ittembrr  of  %  Sljirb  Jjotwe. 

the  young  man's  ringing  reply.  "The  welfare  of 
the  people  demands  it.  Public  morality  demands 
it.  Unless  we  can  break  through  this  chain  of 
denial,  we  can  prove  nothing.  If  we  only  had  one 
little  opening  ;  if  we  could  only  force  one  petty 
member  of  the  Third  House  to  confess  " 

''Father,  I  see  it,"  cried  Evelyn,  her  face 
lighted  up  with  something  of  Turtle's  own  en- 
thusiasm. "  If  you  can  furnish  evidence,  it  is 
your  duty  to  the  people." 

Tuttle  went  on  :  "  Every  paper  in  the  Union 
is  commenting  on  t»he  supineness  of  our  great 
State  under  the  heel  of  this  corporation.  We 
must  break  it  down.  I  am  appalled  at  the 
thought  of  failing  to  convict,  so  gigantic  is  the 
evil.  If  one  act  could  be  fixed  on  the  railway, 
the  whole  stupendous  fraud  would  fall  to  pieces. 
Senator,"  he  said,  flinging  out  his  hand  in  a  last 
appeal,  "  I  felt  that  in  your  testimony  last  Tues- 
day you  kept  something  back.  If  I  recall  you 
to-morrow,  will  you  tell  us  all  you  know  ?  " 

"  Of  course  he  will,"  said  Evelyn,  placing  her 
hand  on  her  father's  shoulder.  There  was  a 
significant  silence  in  the  room. 

"  Suppose  it  sacrificed  a  dear  friend,"  said 
Ward,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Do  it,  father.  Won't  you  ?  There  is  no 
other  way." 


21  iJlnnbcr  of  %  Sljtrir  gon0e.  137 

"  Suppose  it  robbed  a  wife  and  children  of 
support  ? " 

"The  question  should  be  what  is  right,  not 
what  is  expedient,"  said  Tuttle,  with  the  inex- 
orable logic  of  a  moralist. 

When  Ward  spoke  again,  his  voice  was  in  a 
higher  key  and  trembled  perceptibly.  "  Suppose 
it  destroys  the  name  of  a  man  who  has  grown  old 
in  the  service  of  his  State  ?  " 

"The  truth  won't  hurt  such  a  hypocrite,"  cried 
Evelyn;  "it  would  do  him  good.  Stand  up 
for  justice,  father.  I'd  do  it  if  I  were  in  your 
place." 

"  It's  worth  the  cost,  Senator.  Think  of  its 
effect  on  future  legislation." 

There  was  another  pause. 

"  Very  well,  sir  ;  you've  set  me  a  hard  task.  I 
never  had  a  harder  one.  You  may  recall  me,  and 
I  will  testify."  He  sank  into  his  chair  and  bowed 
his  head  upon  his  hand. 

"  That's  my  brave  Puritan  father,"  Evelyn 
said,  putting  her  hand  about  his  neck. 

When  Ward  lifted  up  his  head  to  speak,  his 
face  had  a  set  look.  He  spoke  slowly,  brokenly. 
'You  don't  understand  what  you  ask,  Evelyn. 
Let  me  put  it  to  you  in  a  new  way.  On  one 
side  is  a  monopoly,  stronger  than  you  can  under- 
stand, reaching  like  a  devil-fish  into  every  man's 


138  21  itlembo:  of  tlje  Sfyiri  fijouse. 

pocket,  unscrupulous  men  everywhere  at  the 
head  of  it,  doing  its  work  of  bribery  with  eyes 
shut,  a  corrupting  influence  which  we  cannot  de- 
stroy without  sacrificing  some  man,  somebody 
with  wife  and  children  and  friends,  who  love  him 
and  trust  him.  It  will  be  ruin  to  many  a  man 
if  I  speak.  Senators  will  be  impeached." 

"Then  you  must  speak,  father.  Why,  you 
terrify  me  by  describing  this  power.  If  you  can 
break  down  this  wall  that  shields  these  robbers, 
do  it,  no  matter  what  individual  suffers." 

"  Suppose  /am  the  individual  ?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?  Not  that  you  —  not 
that  it  is  " 

"  Good  heavens,  Senator  !  You  don't  mean 
that  you  have  actually —  accepted" 

Ward  looked  up  at  them  both,  with  white, 
pathetic  face.  "  I'm  a  disgraced  and  ruined  old 
man.  Help  me  to  do  my  duty."  He  uttered  a 
low  cry  that  was  like  a  sob.  Evelyn  put  her 
arm  about  his  neck  with  the  action  of  a  mother- 
bird  sheltering  its  young.  There  was  an  accus- 
ing look  on  her  face,  but  her  out-flung  hand  had 
pleading  in  it.  Tuttle  rose  and  went  hastily  out, 
leaving  father  and  child  together. 


CHAPTER  XL 

BEFORE    THE    JOINT    COMMITTEE. 

THE  interest  in  the  investigation  had  grown 
from  day  to  day,  and  long  before  ten  o'clock 
on  Monday  people  began  to  ascend  to  the  com- 
mittee-room and  take  the  seats  reserved  for  the 
spectators.  A  continuous  stream  from  the  inces- 
santly rising  and  falling  elevators  clicked,  shuffled 
and  clattered  along  the  halls.  Tuttle  was  waiting 
out  in  the  corridor  for  the  coming  of  the  com- 
mittee and  the  principals,  pacing  back  and  forth 
just  beyond  the  door  on  the  marble  flagging, 
unmindful  of  the  curious  glances  of  the  crowd. 

Strangers  coming  along  saw  him,  whispered, 
smiled,  for  he  was  known  to  most  of  them.  The 
members  of  the  Third  House  came  up  in  pairs, 
laughing  gaily,  and  the  hall  echoed  with  quips 
and  jests  and  laughter,  like  the  lobby  of  a  thea- 
ter. Had  there  been  more  women  its  verisimil- 
itude would  have  been  complete. 

Brennan  came  along,  looking  as  fresh  as  the 
rose  he  wore  in  his  coat.  He  nodded  at  Tuttle. 

"  Hello,  Tuttle  !     How's  business  ?  " 

139 


140  21  Jilemkr  of  tlje  Sljtrir  fijou0e, 

"Save  your  jokes  till  night,"  Tuttle  replied, 
quietly. 

"  I'll  have  plenty  left,  and  you'll  be  the  biggest 
one  of  all,"  said  Brennan,  as  he  passed  on. 

Tuttle  was  waiting  for  Ward  and  Evelyn. 
Would  he  come  ?  It  was  a  terrible  thing  to  ask 
of  him.  He  was  an  old  man  and  in  financial 
straits  ;  his  testimony  would  ruin  him  in  the  face 
of  the  community.  The  more  Tuttle  thought 
of  it,  the  more  impossible  it  grew.  It  was  more 
than  any  man  was  capable  of. 

The  crowds  streamed  by  him.  He  could 
hear  them  as  they  whispered  to  their  com- 
panions :  ''There  he  is  —  that's  Tuttle." 

At  every  click  of  the  elevator  door  he  turned 
to  look.  Helene  came  in  with  young  Brooks, 
a  divinity  student,  an  affected,  brainless  creature. 
She  gave  one  quick  glance  at  him,  and  then  fell 
into  a  very  deeply  interested  conversation  with 
young  Brooks,  whom  she  hated,  and  so  managed 
to  pass  Tuttle  without  seeing  him. 

Tuttle  was  braced  to  the  shock,  but  he  stag- 
gered under  it.  He  had  hoped  it  would  not 
come  to  that.  The  practice  of  "cutting"  friends 
had  always  seemed  to  him  a  weak  and  childish 
thing  to  do.  It  settled  nothing.  It  served  only 
to  belittle  and  degrade  both  parties  to  it. 

At  last  Senator  Ward  came  in  with  Evelyn. 


21  iHember  of  t\)t  Styrir  §mi0*.  141 

Tuttle  was  shocked  at  his  looks.  He  absolutely 
leaned  upon  Evelyn's  shoulder  for  support,  and 
his  face  was  white  and  full  of  shadows  where 
the  fallen  muscles  had  left  hollows.  His  eyes 
were  wide  and  almost  piteous.  He  smiled  pa- 
thetically. 

"  I'm  here,  Wilson  —  ready  to  do  my  duty." 

"  I  wish  there  was  some  other  way,  Senator," 
Tuttle  said,  giving  them  each  a  hand.  "  I'm 
ready  to  release  you.  I've  thought  it  all  over ; 
it's  too  much  to  ask  of  you.  I  don't  ask  it  of 
you." 

Evelyn's  set  face  relaxed  into  a  smile.  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  hear 
you  say  that.  He  is  so  sick.  It  don't  seem  so 
easy  here  before  this  crowd." 

"  No,  I  shall  do  it,"  Ward  replied.  "  I  ain't 
got  much  longer  to  live  anyway." 

"Oh,  father!" 

"  It's  true,  Evelyn.  I  don't  care  to-day.  I'm 
ready,  anxious  to  do  it  and  have  done  with  it." 
His  eyes  lighted  with  a  desperate  sort  of  enthu- 
siasm. He  had  attained  something  of  the  mar- 
tyr's mood. 

"  It  may  be  avoided,"  Tuttle  said  to  Evelyn. 
"  We  are  going  to  re-examine  some  of  the  prin- 
cipals, and  there  are  several  almost  desperate 
measures  which  we  will  use.  If  at  the  last  we 


142  31  jtlemtar  of  ti)t  Sfyirb 

find  our  case  going  by  the  board,  and  the  Senator 
is  willing  " 

"  I  shall  be  willing,"  the  old  man  cried. 

Tuttle  gave  him  his  arm,  and  they  entered  the 
committee-room. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
SENATOR   WARD'S  APPEAL. 

COMMITTEE-ROOM  A  was  a  large  vaulted 
^-^  room,  whose  windows  looked  away  on  the 
city  and  over  the  valley  where  the  river  lay  at 
flood-tide,  reflecting  the  burning  light  of  the 
morning  sun  like  burnished  steel.  The  windows 
were  open,  and  the  curtains  flapped  intermittently 
as  the  wind  gushed  in,  laving  the  crowd  with 
delicious  impartiality.  The  room  was  filled  with 
a  motley  crowd,  all  sorts  of  reformers,  and  all 
sorts  of  people  drawn  merely  out  of  curiosity  to 
witness  that  most  dramatic  of  all  things  in  real 
life,  a  trial  of  justice. 

At  one  end  of  the  room  were  the  seats  of  the 
spectators.  On  a  semi-circular  platform  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room  were  a  series  of  desks 
arranged  in  shape  like  a  horse-shoe,  placed  end 
to  end.  In  the  space  inclosed  was  a  long  repor- 
ters' table.  On  either  side,  at  the  front,  were  two 
long  tables.  At  one  sat  the  Iron  Duke,  his  attor- 
ney Binney,  Fox  and  Brennan.  At  the  other 
Tuttle  took  his  seat  with  the  Attorney-General. 


143 


144  21  Jllembn:  of  tlje  Sljirfr 

At  the  back  of  the  committee's  chairs  were  other 
reporters  and  clerks  writing  busily.  At  the 
door,  moving  about  and  waiting  upon  the  com- 
mitteemen,  were  the  assistant  sergeants-at-arms. 
Immediately  in  front  were  the  seats  reserved  for 
representatives,  quite  a  number  of  whom  were 
present,  especially  the  younger  members,  who 
came  in  jauntily,  with  flowers  in  their  button- 
holes, and  one  or  two  wore  sashes.  They  nod- 
ded to  Brennan  and  laughed  among  them- 
selves carelessly,  some  faces  showing  signs  of 
liquor,  but  others  were  grave  and  anxious.  The 
senators  mainly  talked  among  themselves,  nod- 
ding their  gray  heads.  The  general  feeling  was 
that  a  crisis  was  reached.  If  Tuttle  won  nothing 
from  this  sitting,  everybody  said  he  must  with- 
draw. 

The  sensation  of  the  hour  was  the  entrance 
of  Senator  Ward  and  Evelyn,  accompanied  by 
Tuttle.  The  people  broke  into  applause  at  the 
sight  of  the  young  champion  of  the  people's 
rights,  who  paid  no  attention  to  the  clapping,  but 
assisted  Ward  to  a  seat. 

"  Old  gent's  been  on  another  bat,"  commented 
Merritt,  breaking  in  on  a  story  Brennan  was 
telling. 

"  Rather  rocky  this  morning.    (I  wonder  what 


31  iHcmbu;  of  tlje  Sljtrir  fjon0e.  145 

brings  him  out  in  that  condition)/'  said  Brennan 
to  himself.  He  gave  little  further  thought  to  it. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  continuing  his  story,  which 
he  told  capitally,  "  there  were  these  two  old  girls 
looking  across  the  back-yard  fence,  and  this  was 
the  dialogue:  'Have  you  haird  the  news?' 
'  No,  phwat  is  it  ? '  '  Mrs.  O'Flanigan  has  an  in- 
crease in  the  family.'  '  Naw.'  '  Indade,  yis.' 
'Phwat  is  the  six,  bye  or  gurl?'  '  Nayther.' 
'  Phwat  ?  Nayther  ? '  '  Naw,  it's  twuns.' ' 

The  group  around  Brennan  laughed  uproari- 
ously, till  Chairman  Smith  silenced  them  by  say- 
ing :  "  Say,  Brennan  is  Irish.  If  you  don't  be- 
lieve it  from  his  brogue,  let  me  tell  you  the  bull 
he  made  the  other  day.  He  said  to  Wade,  who 
wanted  him  to  go  yachting  on  Friday —  'All 
right,'  says  Tom,  '  I'll  go  on  Friday,  if  it  dawn't 
rain.  If  it  rains  Friday,  I'll  go  Thursday.' " 

While  they  were  all  laughing  at  Brennan,  the 
remaining  members  of  the  committee  came  in 
and  took  their  seats,  and,  as  he  grinned  in 
subsiding  merriment,  the  chairman  called  the 
room  to  order  by  a  blow  of  the  gavel  upon  his 
desk. 

"We  are  ready  to  proceed,  Mr.  Attorney- 
General,"  he  said,  and  he  leaned  over  and 
whispered  something  to  his  neighbor  that  con- 
vulsed them  both,  while  his  hard,  bold  eyes  were 


146  21  Jilembo:  of  tlj*  Sljtri 

fixed  on  Helena's  fresh  face  and  dancing-  eyes.  It 
was  all  very  delightful  for  her.  The  whole  affair 
was  farcical  or  dull  to  most  of  the  committee. 
They  rejoiced  when  a  breath  of  fun  came  in. 

The  first  witness  called  was  Robert  Jenks, 
whose  convenient  deafness,  somewhat  exagger- 
ated possibly,  made  interrogation  difficult,  as  the 
Attorney-General's  voice  was  not  strong.  He 
had  been  very  busy  at  the  office,  Robert  testi- 
fied, and  had  not  taken  much  notice  who  came 
in  or  out  with  his  brother.  He  could  not  hear 
anything  spoken  in  the  office  unless  he  could 
see  the  speaker's  lips.  Did  not  know  the  names 
of  men  who  called.  Could  not  recall  faces. 

"Call  Thomas  Brennan,"  said  the  Attorney- 
General,  dismissing  Robert,  who  rose  impas- 
sively and  went  out. 

"Mr.  Brennan."  Brennan  came  around  to 
the  witness-chair  at  the  left.  The  clerk  swore 
him  in  the  usual  perfunctory  manner.  "  Hoi'  up 
y'r  'an'.  You  do  so'mly  swear  't  w't  you  tes'fy 
s'll  be  wholetruth,  nothin'  but  truth,  s'help-ye- 
God."  Brennan  nodded  and  seated  himself. 

The  Attorney- General  picked  up  a  scrap  of 
paper  from  the  desk,  looked  benevolently  over 
his  spectacles  at  Brennan,  and  asked  in  a  per- 
fectly indifferent  manner  :  "Mr.  Brennan,  you're 
a  member  of  the  Third  House,  I  believe?" 


21  illnnber  of  tlje  aijirir  gan0t.  147 

His  voice  seemed  to  come  from  a  great  interior 
distance  and  addressed  itself  to  space. 

"Accordin'  to  the  noospapers,  I  have  that 
honor,"  replied  Brennan,  blandly  at  his  ease. 

"A  doubtful  honor.  In  your  opinion,  Mr. 
Brennan,  what  constitutes  the  duties  of  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Third  House  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that  they've  been  defined." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir?  "  said  the 
Attorney-General,  looking  at  him. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  that  I've  sized  it  up  yet 
myself.  But  I  should  say  —  greasing  the  wheels 
of  legislation." 

"That  is  to  say  "  - 

"  I  mean  instructing  the  country  members,  sir." 
The  Attorney-General  seemed  mildly  interested 
in  this  bit  of  information.  His  eyes  returned  to 
the  slip  in  his  hand. 

"Ahem  !  That's  the  legitimate,  I  suppose. 
What  is  the  illegitimate  function  ?  " 

"  Can't  say  ;  you'll  have  to  ask  the  other  feller. 
I'm  not  in  it."  This  raised  a  laugh. 

"Mr.  Brennan,"  said  the  Attorney- General, 
leaning  toward  him  and  taking  a  little  more  inter- 
est in  his  questioning,  "  have  you  ever  paid  out 
any  money  to  members  of  either  house  in  the 
interests  of  the  Consolidated  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 


148  21  ittembo:  of  tlje  (ftljirb 

"Or  in  your  own  interest?" 

"  No,  sir,  never." 

The  Attorney-General  paused,  took  off  his  spec- 
tacles, polished  them  with  his  handkerchief,  and 
asked:  "You're  employed  here  in  the  interests 
of  the  Consolidated  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What  do  you  do  here?  You  must  earn 
your  salary,"  he  said,  going  on  in  a  curiously 
mechanical,  automatic  way.  It  didn't  seem  to 
involve  any  correlative  thinking  on  his  part. 

Brennan  winked  jovially  at  the  chairman,  with 
the  eye  on  the  other  side  from  the  prosecution. 
"I  try  to,  sir." 

"Well,  now,  what  do  you  do?  Now,  wait; 
I  wish  you'd  state,  carefully  and  briefly,  just 
what  you  do." 

Brennan  replied,  seriously,  as  if  nothing  was 
to  be  gained  by  further  evasion  :  "  I  secure  the 
services  of  the  Third  House,  either  by  retaining 
them  as  lawyers  or  as  lobbyists,  pure  and 
simple." 

The  Attorney- General  looked  at  the  ceiling 
meditatively.  "Pay  them  money,  of  course?" 
he  said,  as  if  he  saw  the  question  posted  on  the 
ceiling. 

"  Of  course  ;   that's  what  they're  here  for." 

"And  that's  what  you're  here  for.     That  is  to 


21  JJlnnbcr  of  tlje  Sljirb  tymsc.  149 

say,  you  either  pay  them  for  doing  certain  work 

or    retain    them    so    they    won't    work    against 

-\  n 
you  : 

"Yes,  sir;  that's  the  exact  idea."  Brennan 
appeared  delighted  at  his  ready  comprehension. 

"How  much  money  have  you  paid  out  to 
those  members  of  the  Third  House?"  pursued 
the  Attorney- General. 

"Can't  say  —  too  much." 

"Don't  keep  an  account,   I  suppose?" 

"Not  a  regular  book,  no,  sir;  only  a  few 
memoranda." 

Softly,  without  looking  at  Brennan  :  "  Never 
paid,  by  mistake,  any  money  to  members  of  the 
other  houses  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  not  a  cent." 

Tuttle  at  this  point  whispered  in  the  Attorney- 
General's  ear,  who  then  turned  and  asked :  "  Who 
arranged  these  —  these  dinners?  Whose  idea 
was  that?  Yours,  or  Mr.  Davis'?" 

"  Mine.  I  suggested  it  as  a  good  thing,  and 
he  agreed." 

"Ah  !  What  made  you  think  it  was  a  good 
thing?  " 

"  Well,  I  thought  it  would  give  us  a  good 
chance  to  explain  the  bill,  and  then  a  man's 
always  in  better  shape  to  listen  when  he  has  a 
good  dinner,  you  know." 


150  21  Jttembn:  of  tf)e  SIjtrir 

"  Is  your  idea  of  a  good  dinner  one  costing  ten 
dollars  a  plate  ?  " 

Brennan  smiled  broadly.  "  Well,  yes,  I  should 
say  that  it  was  a  " 

"  Good  workable  dinner — eh  ?"  struck  in  the 
attorney,  dryly  humorous.  When  the  laughter 
had  died  away  he  returned  to  Brennan  with  a 
little  more  severity  than  he  had  yet  shown. 

"Now,  sir,  is  it  not  a  fact  it  was  your  design 
to  unduly  influence  those  men  by  that  dinner  and 
those  wines  ?  " 

Brennan  hesitated  a  little.  "  Well,  I  didn't 
suppose  it  would  make  'em  enemies,"  he 
admitted. 

"You  thought  it  would  influence  them  favor- 
ably?'1 

"  I  did,  yes,  sir." 

"  You  say  you  never  paid  one  cent  to  any 
member  of  this  legislature,"  pursued  the  Attor- 
ney-General, putting  on  his  glasses  again  and 
referring  to  some  notes.  "Do  I  understand 
you  to  mean  by  that  that  no  values  of  notes  or 
stocks  or  bonds  " 

"Yes,  sir,  once  for  all  I  say  I've  not  spent 
one  cent  illegitimately  for  the  interests  of  the 
Air  Line." 

"  That  doesn't  answer  my  question,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 


21  ftlember  of  %  Sfytrtr  fymst.  151 

"Because  we  don't  agree  on  the  meaning  of 
the  word  'legitimate/  Haven't  you  promised 
members  of  this  legislature  that  if  the  bill  passed 
they  would  be  stockholders  in  the  road  to  speci- 
fied amounts. " 

"No,  sir." 

"You  are  under  oath,  Mr.  Brennan,"  said  the 
Attorney-General,  quietly  severe. 

Brennan  faced  him  undauntedly.  "I  am 
aware  of  it,  sir."  There  was  a  little  pause. 
Both  parties  studied  each  other. 

"That's  all,  sir,"  said  the  Attorney-General. 
Brennan  smiled. 

The  chairman  looked  around  the  circle. 
"  Any  one  else  a  question  ?  " 

The  first  committeeman,  a  young  man  of 
great  sincerity  and  power,  known  to  be  a  dis- 
tinct opponent  of  all  monopoly,  took  up  the 
questioning. 

"Mr.  Brennan,  how  much  of  your  time  do 
you  give  to  the  Third  House?"  he  said,  in  a 
crisp,  matter-of-fact  voice. 

"Just  now,  all  my  time." 

"  What  do  you  get  for  it  ?  " 

"  Five  thousand  per  year." 

"Does  that  include  your  expenses  ?  " 

"No,  sir  —  that  is,  not  all  of  them." 

"  If  you  should  give  a  dinner  to  a  dozen  legis- 


152  21  JHcmbw  of  tlje  ffiljirlr  fi)cm0e. 

lators,  the  bill  could  safely  be  left  to  the  Consol- 
idated to  pay  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"That's all,  Mr.  Chairman  —  for  the  present." 

The  chairman  now  took  up  the  interrogation. 
"  One  moment,  Mr.  Brennan.  Why  were  these 
invitations  to  dinner  given  out  in  blocks  of  ten  ? 
Was  there  any  special  significance  in  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Only  a  handy  way  of  telling  when 
we  got  round." 

"  Didn't  want  to  treat  the  same  fellow  twice  — 
eh  ?  Had  no  political  significance,  I  take  it. 
Any  one  else  a  question  ?  Mr.  Binney  ?  " 

Binney,  who  had  been  apparently  dozing, 
roused  up,  and  asked  in  his  peculiar,  high, 
nasal,  drawling,  self-complacent  tone  : 

"Mr.  Brennan,  did  you  ever  pay,  or  promise 
to  pay,  one  cent  —  in  stocks,  bonds,  cash,  or 
valuables  of  any  kind  —  to  any  member  —  of  this 
legislature  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

''That's  all,"  said  Binney,  settling  down 
again,  as  if  that  settled  the  matter,  while  a 
ripple  of  laughter  ran  over  the  room.  The 
Attorney-General  at  this  point  asked : 

"One  more  question,  Mr.  Brennan.  Do  you 
consider  the  work  you've  done  here  for  the  Air 


21  JHnnbcr  of  %  Sljirir  fyonst.  153 

Line,  this  work  of  buying  up  the  Third  House, 
legitimate  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  and  more,  it  was  necessary,"  re- 
plied Brennan,  with  engaging  frankness  that 
raised  a  laugh. 

The  Attorney- General  settled  back  in  his 
chair.  "Do  you  keep  any  accounts,  check- 
books, stubs  or  vouchers  for  the  amounts  you 
pay  out  ? " 

"No,   sir." 

"Trust  each  other  perfectly,  I  suppose?"  put 
in  the  first  committeeman,  who  never  took  his 
eyes  off  Brennan's  face  during  the  entire  testi- 
mony. 

"Are  the  promises  to  pay  ever  put  into 
writing?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"So  that,  unless  some  one  squeaked,  there  is 
no  trace  of  the  actual  amounts  passed?" 

"No,  sir,  not  unless  we  would  give  them, 
which  we  have  freely  done." 

"  Your  openness  doesn't  extend  to  any  crimi- 
nating transactions,  I've  noticed,"  said  the 
Attorney-General,  dryly. 

"  Because  there  wasn't  any,  sir." 

'  That's  what  we're  trying  to  convince  our- 
selves." 

"Success  to  ye!"   was    Brennan's    audacious 


154  21  ittember  of  %  Stjirtr  Jjotwt. 

answer,  which  started  another  murmur  of  laughter 
and  applause  from  the  Third  House. 

-That's  all." 

The  chairman  nodded.  "  That's  all,  Mr. 
Brennan." 

"Call  Mr.  Davis." 

"  Mr.  Davis,"  said  the  chairman,  with  a  respect- 
ful tone  of  voice,  "the  committee  ask  your 
recall."  Davis  left  his  seat  near  Helene  and 
came  forward  and  took  the  chair.  He  held  a  fan 
in  his  hand,  with  which  he  played.  "You've 
been  sworn,  I  believe  ? "  Davis  nodded  without 
speaking. 

The  Attorney- General,  with  his  eyes  on  the  bit 
of  paper  which  he  held  in  his  hands,  began  his 
questioning  from  the  same  remote  interior  depth 
as  before,  with  no  appreciable  access  of  interest. 

"Mr.  Davis,  did  you  on  the  24th  of  April  meet 
a  representative  of  the  Electric  Motor  Line  and 
pay  him  a  certain  sum  of  money  ?  " 

"As   I   testified    on  Wednesday,    I   did;   yes, 

•    » > 
sir. 

"  What  did  you  pay  him  that  money  for  ? " 

"I  —  I  bought  him  out." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?  According  to 
your  previous  testimony,  he  had  no  property  to 
sell." 


21  JEkmbrr  of  tlje  Sljtrir  gotw.  155 

"  I  paid  him  to  withdraw,"  replied  Davis,  in 
the  tone  of  a  man  facing  a  critical  question. 

The  Attorney- General  again  looked  benig- 
nantly  over  his  spectacles.  "  You  heard  that  he 
was  coming  before  this  legislature  with  a  plan  for 
a  road,  asking  a  charter,  and  you  thought  it  good 
business  method  to  pay  him  to  stay  away  ? " 

"That's  it,  exactly;  I  paid  him  to  keep  away. 
I  felt  that  we  were  better  able  to  build  the  road, 
that  it  was  good  policy  to  use  all  legitimate 
means  to  get  our  charter,  and  " 

The  Attorney-General  interrupted  him  quietly 
but  sternly.  "Do  you  consider  it  a  proper  thing 
to  step  between  a  petitioning  corporation  and 
this  legislature  and  buy  it  off?  "  Davis  remained 
silent.  "  The  legislature,  representing  the  peo- 
ple of  this  State,  should  have  a  chance  to  see  for 
itself  the  relative  merits  of  each  system.  How 
much  money  did  you  pay  ?  "  At  this  question  the 
room  became  still  as  death  ;  the  reporters  waited 
with  their  pens  in  hand  for  this  most  important 
answer.  Helene,  without  knowing  what  it  all 
meant,  was  deeply  interested.  Davis  partly  rose, 
his  face  flushed  with  anger. 

"  I  decline  to  answer." 

This  was  the  crisis  that  the  defense  had  an- 
ticipated, and  Binney  rose  and  said  : 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  c'mittee,  I  'bject.     I  don't 


156  31  JlTcmber  of  ti)t  (Jfyirir  $ou0c. 

see  by  what  lee-gz\  right  Mr.  Attorney- General 
asks  that  question.  What  Mr.  Davis  paid  to  the 
representative  of  the  Motor  Line  is  of  &  pure-\y 
private  nature.  It  don't  enter  into  the  province 
of  this  committee  to  ask  for  this  information.  I 
'bject  to  this  question  as  impertinent  and  unwar- 
rantable, having  no  basis  in  law." 

The  Attorney-General  arose,  impressively  quiet 
by  contrast.  "  Gentlemen  of  the  committee,  I 
want  to  say,  right  here,  that  under  the  laws  of 
the  State  the  Consolidated  Air  Line  Railway  is 
a  creature  of  the  State,  and,  by  the  force  of  sec- 
tion twenty-one,  chapter  sixteen,  it  is  obliged 
to  render  up  its  accounts  at  any  time  to  a  com- 
mittee of  this  character."  He  took  up  a  book 
which  Tuttle  had  opened  and  laid  conveniently 
near.  "  I  would  call  the  committee's  attention 
to  the  section  where  this  is  distinctly  stated.  I 
say,  gentlemen,  that  my  question  is  one  which 
should  be  put  and  answered.  I  propose  to  show 
that  that  sum  did  not  purchase  five  hundred  dol- 
lars' worth  of  visible  property  ;  that  it  was  a 
bribe  substantially,  and  a  fraud  on  this  legisla- 
ture. The  Consolidated  Road  is  a  corporation ; 
the  Motor  System  was  seeking  a  charter  as  a  cor- 
poration. A  transaction  of  the  nature  indicated 
was  not  a  private  one,  and  I  insist  on  knowing." 
He  took  his  seat  amid  a  hush  almost  painful. 


21  JHcmbo;  of  %  Sljirir  fycmst.  157 

The  first  grand  dramatic  moment  had  arrived. 
The  first  genuine  battle.  After  the  legal  fashion 
they  had  approached  by  zig-zag  and  tunnel  as  if 
to  taste  to  the  full  the  delight  of  the  mine's 
exploding  surprise.  The  reporters  sharpened 
their  pencils  and  plunged  into  a  racy  description 
of  the  scene.  The  flapping  curtains  became  an 
annoyance. 

The  committee  conferred  a  moment.  The 
attorneys  consulted  each  other.  The  crowd 
whispered  their  delight.  Davis  gnawed  his 
bristling  lip  as  Binney  spoke  in  his  ear. 

The  chairman  at  last  said  :  "  At  this  point  we 
agree  to  postpone  the  answer  on  the  amount. 
Proceed  on  other  matters  for  the  present.  We 
desire  to  secure  precedent  cases  for  reference." 

"  I  suppose  you're  willing  to  admit  that  it  was 
a  large  sum,  Mr.  Davis,"  the  Attorney-General 
said,  in  a  kind,  encouraging  tone. 

"  I  am,"  Davis  replied,  after  a  pause. 

"  Mr.  Davis,  according  to  your  testimony  on 
Wednesday,  you  did  not  know  how  many  peo- 
ple had  been  retained.  Since  then  a  list  has 
been  made,  and  thirty-nine  members  of  the 
lobby  are  known  to  have  received  money  or 
promises  of  money  from  you.  You  admit  that, 
I  suppose  ?" 

"  It  might  be  forty,  or  more." 


158  %  iHembn*  of  %  ffiljiri  <jorwt. 

"  You  have  no  hesitancy  about  admitting  that 
you  paid  large  sums  of  money  to  these  private 
individuals  ? " 

"  No,  sir  ;  I  found  it  necessary.  I  was  forced 
into  it  by  conditions. " 

"  I  admire  your  frankness,  if  not  your  sense 
of  morality.  If  I  should  say  that  a  man  who 
would  buy  a  private  individual,  would,  in  my 
estimation,  buy  an  official,  if  he  could  do  it 
safely,  you  couldn't  blame  me,  could  you  ?" 

Again  Mr.  Binney  came  out  of  his  doze  to 
object.  "  Gentlemen  of  the  committee,  I  object 
to  such  methods  of  procedure." 

"  You'll  object  to  a  good  many  of  our  methods 
before  we  are  through  with  you,"  replied  the 
Attorney-General,  quietly.  He  asked  the  next 
question  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  expects  a 
certain  answer.  "  Mr.  Davis,  you  don't  know,  I 
suppose,  of  any  money  used  to  influence  members 
of  the  House?" 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Or  any  distribution  of  stocks  or  official 
position,  or  promises  of  such  distribution  at 
some  future  time  ?  " 

Davis  gnawed  his  mustache.  "No,  sir;  noth- 
ing of  the  kind." 

Again  the  Attorney-General  became  slightly 
interested.  "  Do  your  books  show  the  payment 


21  Jfkmher  of  tl)e  Stjirir  fywst.  159 

of  all  these  different  sums  of  money — I  mean 
the  books  of  the  railway,  of  course  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;  except  in  a  general  account  with  me  ; 
there  is  always  an  open  account  with  me." 

"  That  is,  you  have  full  swing  on  these  matters, 
and  the  company  stands  ready  to  pay  ? " 

"If  you  put  it  that  way  —  yes,  sir." 

"I  do  put  it  that  way.  And  you,  in  your 
turn,  gave  the  same  discretionary  power  to  Fox 
and  Brennan  ?  " 

Davis  hesitated,  drumming  nervously  on  the 
table.  The  Attorney-General  went  on  softly, 
burnishing  his  glasses  again:  "I  say,  substan- 
tially the  power  to  employ  men  in  the  interests 
of  the  road  wherever  they  can  find  them, 
while  you  stood  ready  to  pay  without  asking 
embarrassing  questions." 

Davis  paused  as  if  to  trace  out  the  leadings 
of  this  question.  "Yes,  sir." 

"While  you  were  to  know  nothing?" 

Davis  became  irritated  for  the  first  time. 
"  Of  course,  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  know 
everything." 

The  Attorney-General  was  ironically  severe. 
"  And  of  course  you  couldn't  afford  to  be  too 
curious."  He  then  rose  and  addressed  the 
committee.  "Gentlemen,  I  insist  on  having  the 
answer  to  my  question,  and  I  insist  on  having 


ico  31  Jltembn:  of  %  ftljiri 

the  books  of  this  corporation  brought  into  this 
room.  I  believe  that  the  money  which  went  to 
the  Motor  Line  also  included  money  to  be  used 
in  the  interests  of  the  Consolidated.  I  say  that 
if  you  can  find  that  fifty  thousand  dollars  has 
been  paid  in  one  lump  sum  to  an  opposing 
petitioner,  it  is  prima  facie  evidence  of  crime. 
1  insist  on  the  amount." 

Binney  sprang  to  his  feet  before  the  Attorney- 
General  had  taken  his  seat,  exclaiming  in  his 
scornful  drawl  :  "If  my  lear-ned  brother  real-ly 
believes  that,  he  must  have  got  a  new  vi-ew  of 
law  from  some  in-spired  book.  As  matter  o' 
fact,  if  the  sum  were  a  half  mil-lion,  it  would 
prove  nothing.  I  in-sist  it  is  a  private  matter. 
I  object  to  the  question." 

The  chairman  held  up  the  ballots.  "  With  a 
vote  of  five  to  two  the  committee  demand  the 
amount." 

Davis  and  Binney  sprang  up  together,  Davis 
shouting:  "Mr.  Chairman,  this  is  an  outrage, 
an  assault  on  my  private  affairs.  I  shall  not 
reply." 

"  Gentlemen  of  the  committee,  I  am  astounded 
at  such  ignorance,  such  injustice — it  is  without 
precedent." 

The  chairman  pounded  upon  the  table  with 
his  gavel,  bringing  the  room  to  order.  His 


21  Jflcmbrr  of  tl]t  Sljirir  Qomt.  161 

jovial  face  became  stern.  "  Mr.  Binney  seems 
to  forget  that  he  is  in  the  presence  of  one  of  the 
highest  courts  of  the  land." 

"  It  is  the  committee's  fault,  sir,  if  that  is  so. 
There  has  been  too  little  law  and  fairness." 

"  Sit  down,  sir!  This  committee  is  not  to  be 
lectured,"  shouted  the  chairman.  "The  com- 
mittee, in  anticipation  of  this  question,  have 
carefully  examined  the  records  for  precedent. 
It  was  not  a  private  and  inviolable  transaction. 
Proceed,  Mr.  Attorney-General.  Mr.  Davis 
will  answer  the  question." 

The  crowd  was  tense  with  delighted  suspense. 
The  reporters  wrote  like  lightning.  Relays 
came  and  went  from  the  large  table  in  the 
center.  The  special  artist  of  the  Planet  drew 
rapid  sketches  of  the  chairman  and  Binney  as 
they  faced  each  other.  Helene  clapped  her 
hands  as  if  it  were  a  play.  Ward  leaned  for- 
ward, forgetful  of  everything  else  but  Evelyn, 
whose  hands  held  his.  He  recognized  this  as 
a  very  important  question. 

Binney  pulled  Davis  down  and  whispered 
some  inaudible  warning  in  his  ear.  Fox  went 
over  to  them  and  added  his  counsel.  Brennan 
walked  the  floor,  his  easy  indifference  for  the 
first  time  disturbed.  Tuttle  and  Russell  con- 
sulted. The  crowd  waited  with  whispered  col- 


162  21  Jttcmtar  of  tljc  Sfytrb  ijjouse. 

loquies,  their  eyes  on  Davis  as  the  great  actor  in 
the  drama.  The  Attorney-General,  at  length, 
with  calm  but  fateful  utterance,  asked  : 

"  Mr.  Davis,  what  was  the  sum  paid  by  you  to 
the  representative  of  the  Motor  Line?  " 

Binney  arose.  "At  my  request,  Mr.  Davis 
will  reply,  because  it  really  has  no  significance, 
as  I  see,  what  the  sum  was,  when  the  passage 
of  some  money  is  admitted." 

Davis  answered,  with  a  touch  of  bravado  : 
"  I  paid  him  a  hundred  thousand  dollars." 

There  was  a  tremendous  sensation  in  the 
room,  much  wagging1  of  heads  and  mutterings  : 
"I  told  you  so!"  "That  cooks  his  goose,"  and 
the  like.  Instant  silence  followed  that  they 
might  hear  the  next  question. 

"In  cash?" 

"I  decline  to  answer  that,  sir." 

"Is  it  not  a  fact,  Mr.  Davis,"  insinuated  the 
Attorney-General,  "that  you  paid  him  half  in 
cash  to  be  used  in  furthering  the  bill,  and  half  in 
stock  in  the  road  ?  " 

"I  decline  to  answer." 

"Will  your  books  show  the  nature  of  this 
transaction  ? " 

"No,  sir." 

"Or  the  amount?" 

"No,  sir." 


21  ittember  of  tl)e  Sljtrir  §ou0e.  163 

"  But  they  will  show  an  account  with  you. 
Will  you  bring  those  books  in?" 

"The  company's  books  —  yes,   sir.' 

"This  afternoon?"  Davis  nodded.  "Very 
well,  sir,  that  is  all." 

"Any  one  else  a  question  ?"  asked  the  chair- 
man. 

Binney,  who  confined  his  examination  of  his 
principals  to  the  single  repeated  question  to 
bring  out  their  innocence,  asked  with  significant 
emphasis:  "Mr.  Davis  —  has  there  ever  —  by 
your  consent  —  or  with  your  knowledge  —  been 
paid  —  one  cent  of  values  in  money  or  stock  to 
any  member  of  this  legislature  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"That  is  all,  sir,"  said  Binney,  with  an  air  of 
vast  satisfaction  no  actor  could  surpass. 

"  Any  one  else  a  question  ? "  asked  the  chair- 
man. 

The  first  committeeman  said:  "As  Mr. 
Davis  will  be  recalled  this  afternoon,  I  will 
waive  the  questions  which  I  had  designed  to 
ask  him,  till  his  recall.  They  refer  to  the  trans- 
actions just  mentioned." 

"That  is   all,   Mr.   Davis." 

Davis  rose  and  went  back  to  where  Helene 
was  sitting  beside  Evelyn,  delighted  with  it  all. 


164  ft  JHcmbor  of  %  tljtrtr  Cjotm. 

"  Come,  Helene,  this  is  no  place  for  you  at  all. 
You  and  Brooks  go  home.  Til  come  soon." 

Helene  and  the  young  man  rose  and  tiptoed 
out,  while  the  committee  conferred  among  them- 
selves, and  the  sergeant-at-arms  helped  them  to 
ice-water.  The  reporter  at  the  central  table 
rose  with  his  hands  full  of  copy.  A  colleague 
slid  into  his  chair,  and  he  made  his  way  out  of 
the  room  in  order  to  have  the  testimony  up  to 
this  point  in  the  next  edition. 

The  chairman  called  the  room  to  order.  "  Mr. 
Attorney-General,  we  are  ready  for  your  next 
witness." 

"  I  would  like  to  ask  Mr.  Fox  one  or  two 
questions." 

The  delighted  spectators  sent  forth  another 
rustle  of  pleased  expectation.  Those  who  had 
heard  Fox  testify  before  communicated  with 
those  who  had  not. 

"  He's  a  dandy  !  I  tell  yeh,  you  don't  ketch 
him  off  his  guard.  He's  fox  by  name  an'  fox  by 
nature." 

"Will  Mr.  Fox  step  forward?"  said  the 
chairman. 

Fox  went  to  the  seat  for  witnesses,  with  a 
bland  smile  on  his  face. 

"  Mr.  Fox,  you  knew,  of  course,  all  about  the 
purchase  of  the  motor  scheme." 


21  Jttembn:  of  tlje  Sljirir  @otJ0e.  165 

Fox  replied  glibly,  very  much  at  his  ease: 
"  In  a  general  way  I  may  say,  yes  —  in  a  general 
way  I  did." 

"At  the  time?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  in  a  general  way." 

"In  a  general  way  you  approved  of  it,  of 
course  ?  " 

He  meditated  an  instant.  "Well,  yes — yes, 
I  think  I  may  say  I  did." 

"  You  knew  Mr.  Mason  personally,  I  believe  ? " 

Fox  threw  one  leg  over  his  chair-arm.  He 
had  the  appearance  of  loafing,  as  if  he  were  tell- 
ing stories  in  a  grocery.  "Yes,  through  his 
wife,  I  may  say  ;  she  was  a  Burbank,  of  Lake- 
side. I  used  to  teach  school  in  Lakeside  ;  recol- 
lect very  well  when  I  first  saw  her.  My  maiden 
shingle  had  just  been  hung"- 

"  Spare  us  your  biography,  please,"  said  the 
Attorney-General,  coldly.  "We  can  read  that 
after  you  are  hung." 

The  crowd  laughed.  They  were  delighted  to 
think  the  comedy  element  had  begun  to  come  in. 

"I  was  about  to  say"  began  Fox. 

The  Attorney- General  interrupted  him  impa- 
tiently. "I  simply  wanted  to  know  if  you  knew 
him  personally." 

"  I  do,  because  I  was  in" 


3  fHnnhrr  of  tfjr  <ti)iri  fionst. 

"That  is  sufficient.  You  approved  of  the 
amount  paid  to  Mr.  Davis,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"No,  sir  ;  I  considered  it  too  much." 

•'  You  knew  them  better." 

Fox  settled  himself  lower  down  in  his  chair. 
"  I  didn't  think  there  was  any  money  back  of  his 
scheme.  I  considered  the  use  of  electric  motors 
questionable.  I  think  Mr.  Davis  overestimated 
the  entire  opposition.  I  think  he  overestimated 
the  lobby." 

••Yen-  likely:  one  is  apt  to  in  such  a  case. 
Were  you  present  when  the  transaction  took 
place?" 

•"  No,  sir  ;  I  had  a  couple  of  cases  in  " 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  the  partic- 
ulars of  the  bargain,  I  suppose." 

"  No,  sir  ;  have  no  recollection  of  it" 

"  Your  mind  is  a  mere  blank  on  ail  matters 
of  real  importance  to  this  committee." 

Fox  smiled  broadly.  "  I  am  unable  to  state, 
Mr.  Attorney- General,  what  importance  the 
committee  places  on  my  testimony." 

"  You'll  find  out,  sir.  You  testified  the  other 
day  that  you  had  paid  out  to  various  private 
parties,  members  of  the  Third  House  and  oth- 
ers, large  sums  of  money/  Did  you  keep  any 
account  of  these  things  ?  " 

"  No,  sir  ;  no  book  account." 


21  Iflrmbrr  0f  tljt  <tl)irir  Qrrast.  167 

"No  book  account?  It  was  paid  mainly  by 
private  checks  or  bills,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Mainly,  I  may  say,  by  bills." 

"  Did  you  make  any  memoranda?  " 

"  I  kept  private  accounts  with  some  of  them, 
yes,  sir." 

"I  take  it  you  are  in  the  habit  of  paying  out 
a  good  deal  of  money  in  this  manner  for  the  Air 
Line." 

"Yes,  sir;  as  the  attorney  I  have  great 
liberty." 

"Too  much  liberty."  He  took  a  sheet  of 
paper  from  Tuttle.  "  Xow,  sir,  if  I  should  say 
that  already  your  agents  have,  by  your  own 
admission,  received  nearly  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars, and  expect  more,  you'd  be  surprised, 
wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  What  at?"  replied  Fox,  coolly. 

"  You  would  say  it  was  too  much.  I  presume." 

"I'd  say  it  was  fifty  thousand  dollars  too 
much.  We  paid  out  this  money  from  necessity, 
and  it  was  not" 

"The  Attorney- General  faced  him  with  a  note 
of  sternness  in  his  voice.  "  Necessity  is  no 
excuse  for  violating  the  law,  sir/' 

"  I  have  violated  no  law." 

' l  Can  you  say  as  much  for  your  agents  ?  '* 
asked  one  of  the  corninitteemen. 


168  21  Jttcmbn*  of  %  Sljirir  C)cm0e. 

"I'm  not  testifying  for  them,  sir.  I'm  not 
responsible  for  their  acts,"  replied  Fox,  facing  in 
his  direction. 

"Let  one  of  them  turn  State's  evidence,  and 
you'll  have  a  chance  to  verify  that,"  said  the 
first  committeeman. 

The  Attorney-General  glanced  at  the  chair- 
man. "  I  think  that  is  all,  sir." 

"Any  one  else  a  question  ? "  asked  the  chair- 
man. 

During  the  pause  Fox  gazed  around  him 
smilingly,  his  thumb  in  his  vest  pocket,  his  leg 
over  the  chair-arm.  He  was  a  very  willing 
witness  ;  in  fact,  he  embarrassed  them  with  his 
confidence. 

"That's  all,  Mr.  Fox.  We're  ready  for  the 
next  witness." 

The  Attorney- General  meditated.  Tuttle 
consulted  with  a  scholarly  young  man  who  sat 
beside  him.  Once  or  twice  he  looked  at  Senator 
Ward  and  Evelyn.  A  look  of  pain,  of  appre- 
hension came  over  his  face  as  he  rose  and  went 
to  Ward's  side. 

"Do  you  feel  strong  enough  to  speak?  If 
you  don't,  we  will  adjourn  till  to-morrow." 

"No,  I  want  to  speak  now.  I  never  will  be 
stronger,"  the  old  man  replied,  a  look  of  high 
resolution  on  his  face.  Tuttle  stood  for  an 


21  JUcmbcr  of  tl)e  ®l)irir  §Qn$t.  169 

instant  irresolute.  The  dumb,  appealing  look  in 
Evelyn's  eyes  shook  him,  but  there  seemed  no 
other  way,  and  he  took  his  seat  again. 

"We  will  rest  our  case  here,  Mr.  Attorney  - 
General,  unless  the  committee  desire  to  recall 
Mr.  Tuttle  for  interrogation." 

"  We  thought  that  understood,  Mr.  Attorney- 
General,"  exclaimed  the  chairman,  somewhat 
impatiently.  "  This  committee  is  ready  to  hear 
Mr.  Tuttle  at  any  time,  if  he  has  anything  more 
to  state  to  the  committee." 

This  brought  Tuttle  to  his  feet,  and  he  spoke 
sharply.  "  I  want  to  be  distinctly  understood, 
Mr.  Chairman.  I  stand  here  as  a  witness,  subject 
to  the  committee's  will.  I'm  not  responsible  for 
the  committee's  action,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
be.  I'm  responsible  for  my  own  conduct  in  this 
affair,  simply.  I'm  ready  to  testify  at  any 
moment  in  answer  to  questions  from  this  com- 
mittee, but  I  have  no  statement  to  make.  I  will 
answer  on  the  floor  of  the  House  for  my  conduct 
as  a  representative.  I  now  await  your  action." 

A  deep  hush  fell  upon  the  audience,  who  saw 
now  the  subtle  situation.  The  attempt  of  the 
committee  to  throw  the  burden  and  calumny  of 
defeat  upon  Tuttle's  shoulders  had  failed. 

"  Mr.  Tuttle,  I  don't  know  that  the  committee 


170  21  iHember  of  tl)e  ®ljirb 

has  any  questions  to  ask,"  replied  the  chairman, 
with  considerable  asperity. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  replied  Tuttle.  "  I  have 
nothing  more  to  say.  I  have  one  more  witness, 
however,  overlooked  by  the  Attorney- General  — 
Senator  Rufus  Ward." 

The  chairman  looked  surprised.  The  crowd 
murmured  with  interest.  "  You  ask  Senator 
Ward's  recall?" 

"  Yes,  sir  —  Senator  Ward,"  said  the  Attorney- 
General. 

"  Senator  Ward  will  please  come  forward." 

Ward  rose  slowly  and  came  forward,  followed 
by  Evelyn's  anxious  eyes.  Tuttle  looked  at  her, 
and  his  heart  weakened. 

"  You've  been  sworn,  I  believe  ?  " 

"  I  have,"  he  replied,  in  a  low  voice.  Evelyn 
longed  to  go  to  his  side  and  forbid  him  to  speak, 
but  there  was  a  look  on  his  face  which  awed  her. 

The  crowd  seemed  to  scent  something  dra- 
matic in  the  air.  Their  interest  hitherto  was  dis- 
order compared  to  the  straining  attention  which 
they  now  gave  to  every  movement  and  inflection 
of  the  committee  and  to  the  Senator  whose  recall 
had  been  demanded. 

"Will  you  be  seated,  sir?"  said  the  chairman. 

Ward  bowed,  formally.  "With  your  permis- 
sion, sir,  I  will  stand." 


21  JUrabcr  of  %  Sljirb  fyimzt.  m 

"  Certainly,  sir,"  replied  the  chairman,  politely. 
Ward  stood  with  his  fingers  resting  on  the  table, 
facing  the  committee.  "  I'd  like  to  ask  the  per- 
mission of  the  committee  to  make  a  statement." 

This  request  was  understood  to  mean  that  he 
was  not  to  be  interrupted.  "  Very  well,  Senator  ; 
there  is  no  objection.  State  what  you  have  to 
say  in  your  own  way,"  said  the  chairman,  nod- 
ding about  to  all  the  committee. 

Again  he  bowed  to  the  committee,  and  began 
speaking  in  a  firm,  but  low  monotone  :  "  Gentle- 
men and  fellow  citizens,  I  have  a  confession  to 
make."  A  deathly  silence  fell  in  the  room.  Men 
leaned  forward,  straining  their  ears  to  hear.  "  I 
stand  here  after  a  week  of  sleepless  debate, 
rising  from  a  sick-bed,  with  a  duty  to  perform. 
The  gentlemen  on  this  committee  know  how  the 
taint  of  corruption  has  been  thrown  upon  me. 
Slander  has  been  busy  with  me,  and,  since  my 
testimony  on  Tuesday,  my  brain  has  about  worn 
out  with  the  trouble  of  it  all.  My  own  self- 
defense,  if  nothing  more,  demands  that  I  should 
stand  here  and  testify."  He  paused.  "  I  am  an 
old  man,  gentlemen,  nearing  the  grave,  and  I've 
been  an  honest  man,  as  near  as  I  knew.  I  haven't 
been  a  strong  man,  like  the  young  man  who 
stands  here  at  the  head  of  this  investigation.  I 
had  to  take  the  world  as  I  found  it.  I  had  not 


172  21  Jttember  of  %  ®l)irir  fijouse. 

his  education,  his  easy  position,  and  life  has  been 
a  war.  But  never  mind  that.  If  I  was  weak,  I 
never  wronged  or  entertained  the  idea  of  wrong- 
ing any  human  being,  and  I  never  failed  in  my 
duty  till  lately." 

He  presented  a  great  picture  as  he  stood 
speaking  without  a  gesture.  His  eyes  were 
hollow,  but  full  of  light ;  his  face  was  very  pale. 
He  spoke  with  that  natural  eloquence,  some- 
what formal,  which  a  man  of  his  stamp  uses  in 
making  a  public  speech.  His  phrases  were  gen- 
tle, free  from  dialect  and  simple  in  construction. 

"Gentlemen,  I  stand  here  before  you  to-day 
bankrupt.  My  business,  which  I  built  up  by  a 
life  of  industry  and  enterprise,  has  passed  out 
of  my  hands.  To-day  my  wife  and  daughter 
are  left  without  a  cent." 

His  voice  broke.  In  the  pause  which  fol- 
lowed a  strange,  sweet  shudder  ran  over  the 
room,  like  that  produced  by  a  tense  moment 
on  the  stage.  The  sobs  of  women  could  be 
heard,  so  sincere  and  penetrating  was  the  emo- 
tion in  his  voice.  Evelyn  gazed  at  him  steadily, 
the  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks,  her  lips 
parted,  her  eyes  wide,  her  hands  knotted  and 
pressed  between  her  knees. 

" Won't  you  sit,  Senator?"  asked  the  chair- 
man, gently.  Brennan  and  Fox  could  only 


21  JHembo:  of  tlje  Sljirb  J§ou0e.  173 

glance  at  each  other  in  wonder.  Davis  stared 
fixedly. 

"No,  thank  you,  sir,"  was  Ward's  formal 
reply. 

"Pardon  me,  Senator,"  said  the  chairman 
softly,  "but  is  it  necessary  to  go  into  these  sad 
personal  facts  ? " 

Ward  bowed  again. 

"  It  is,  sir.  I  need  the  palliation  which  they 
will  bring  to  my  offense.  Gentlemen,  it  was 
while  passing  my  sleepless  nights,  studying  out 
these  facts,  trying  to  find  a  way  out,  that  I  was 
approached  with  a  bribe." 

There  was  a  stir  and  a  flutter  in  the  room, 
silenced  by  the  gavel  of  the  chairman. 

"My  God,  will  he  criminate  himself?  "  asked 
Davis,  his  face  turning  a  yellowish  white.  There 
was  something  in  Ward's  face  that  scared  him. 

"Why  in  hell  didn't  you  tell  me  of  this  ?" 
Binney  replied. 

The  chairman's  gavel  silenced  them  both. 

Ward  continued  : 

"  Of  course  I  knew  bribery  was  all  about  me, 
but  it  had  not  reached  me.  But,  at  last,  when 
the  bill  passed  into  the  Senate,  I  was  approached 
by  a  celebrated  member  of  the  Third  House, 
who  knew  of  the  crisis  in  my  business  and 


171  21  ittemkr  of  %  Sljirb 

counted  upon  my  necessity.  He  made  an  offer 
of  money  to  me.'7 

There  was  a  long-  pause,  during  which  Ward 
turned  his  eyes  upon  Tuttle  and  then  upon  Eve- 
lyn, whose  face  was  only  a  vague,  luminous 
gray  patch  before  his  eyes.  He  tried  to  speak, 
and  could  not.  His  throat  was  dry ;  his  voice 
failed  him.  There  came  such  tension  into  the 
listening  ears  of  the  spectators  that  reaction 
must  now  come. 

"Can  you  name  that  man?''  asked  Tuttle,  in 
a  tone  that  made  the  Senator  straighten  again. 

Ward  lifted  his  head  defiantly.  "  I  can  and  I 
will.  It  was  Thomas  Brennan." 

After  an  instant  of  breathless  silence  a  thun- 
derous applause  broke  forth.  Men  leaped  to 
their  feet,  white  with  excitement.  Oaths  of 
admiration  broke  from  their  lips.  The  whole 
matter  was  now  clear.  Ward  was  sacrificing 
himself. 

Brennan  leaped  up,  his  eyes  flaming  with 
wrath.  "  He's  a  God-damned  liar  !  " 

Fox  pulled  him  down. 

The  chairman  rose,  beating  the  table  furi- 
ously. The  reporters  toiled  like  mad.  The 
lightning  sketch  artist  caught  Brennan's  tigerish 
leap  with  a  few  swift  and  powerful  strokes  of  his 
pencil. 


21  Jlfembcr  of  %  Sljirir  Cjou0c.  175 

At  last  the  chairman  secured  silence.  "We 
must  have  order.  Proceed,  Senator." 

Ward  went  on,  still  speaking-  without  a 
gesture. 

"He  offered  me  ten  thousand  dollars  cash  if  I 
would  withdraw  my  opposition  to  the  charter. 
He  knew  my  terrible  anxiety  and  counted  upon 
it,  and  counted  upon  my  —  weakness,  but  I  was 
stronger  than  he  thought." 

"He  lies  —  he  took  it !  "  shouted  Brennan,  fur- 
iously, half  rising  from  his  seat,  in  spite  of  Fox, 
who  had  his  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"Will  you  sit  down,  sir!"  commanded  the 
Attorney- General,  lifting  his  tall  form  above 
Brennan,  and  facing  him  with  a  look  that  awed 
the  king  of  the  lobby. 

Ward  turned  and  faced  Brennan  with  thrilling 
dignity. 

"  Stand  before  this  committee  and  say  that,  if 
you  dare  !  Say  it  under  oath  !  " 

He  paused  a  moment,  with  the  orator's  in- 
stinctive knowledge  of  how  to  use  a  great 
dramatic  moment.  His  burning  eyes  fell  upon 
Brennan  with  accusing  force. 

"  No,  gentlemen  of  the  committee,  I  did  not 
take  it,  but  I  —  I — temporized  ;  in  my  despera- 
tion I  entertained  it.  Yes,  I  promised  it,  in  my 
hour  of  weakness.  That's  my  shame,  my  dis- 


176  21  ittemkr  of  %  Sljtrir  $0110*. 

grace,  and  it  was  while  I  was  sleepless  with  my 
necessity  and  my  temptation  that  another  man 
came  to  me,  came  into  my  house,  came  to  buy 
my  vote  and  influence  —  the  great  leader  of  the 
corporation  himself." 

There  was  no  need  of  the  gavel  now.  Each 
man  apprehended  the  entire  situation. 

'  Whom  do  you  mean  by  that,  Senator?"  said 
Tuttle,  and  his  voice  startled  the  old  man  into 
speech  again. 

"  I  mean  the  Iron  Duke  himself — Mr.  Davis." 

The  pent-up  excitement  of  the  spectators 
broke  out  into  cheers  and  frenzied  applause, 
whose  climax  of  intensity  showed  their  thorough 
appreciation  of  this  supreme  moment  in  the  case 
of  the  prosecution.  The  chairman's  gavel  was 
powerless  to  silence  it. 

Davis  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  face  swollen, 
mottled  red  and  purple  with  anger.  He  thrust 
his  great  fist  into  the  air  with  a  terrible  gesture. 

"Mr.  Chairman,  he  lies  !  I  swear  to  God  he 
lies  !" 

"  Sit  down,"  yelled  the  crowd.  "  Sit  down, 
you  thief !  " 

The  chairman  waved  his  gavel  in  the  air, 
screaming  at  the  top  of  his  lungs. 

"Silence!  Sit  down.  Clear  the  room.  Si- 
lence, I  say ! " 


21  Jtlnnbo:  of  tfje  ®f)iri  §ws>t.  177 

The  room  fell  silent  only  when  it  had  ex- 
hausted its  emotion  through  utterance. 

"  Keep  your  seat,"  said  the  Attorney-General, 
sternly,  to  Davis,  as  soon  as  he  could  be  heard. 
"  Go  on,  Senator.  What  proposition  did  Mr. 
Davis  make  ?  " 

Ward's  voice  began  to  tremble  a  little.  He 
passed  his  hand  in  a  confused  way  across  his 
face. 

"  He  said  he  was  willing  to  expend  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  more  to  carry  the  charter.  It  was 
worth  that  to  him.  He  said  he  must  secure  his 
charter  in  order  to  save  what  he  had.  He  urged 
me  strongly,  and  at  last  offered  me  fifty  thou- 
sand dollars  as  a  definite  proposition  if  I  would 
change  six  votes,  including  my  own." 

Every  word  fell  with  terrible  force  upon 
Davis,  whose  white  face  and  fixed  eyes  looked 
up  at  Ward  as  if  he  already  sat  a  convicted 
criminal  facing  his  judge. 

"  I  thank  God  I  had  the  power  to  put  the 
temptation  aside,  for  it  was  a  terrible  temptation 
to  a  ruined  man.  It  was  not  my  strength  —  it  was 
the  strength  of  my  daughter  and  this  young 
man  here.  I  knew  if  I  took  that  offer  I  could 
never  look  them  in  the  face  again.  That  saved 
me."  He  paused  and  put  his  hand  to  his  head 
as  if  uncertain  what  to  say  next. 


178  21  Member  of  %  Sljiri  fijoim. 

There  was  a  note  of  sarcasm  in  the  chairman's 
voice  as  he  asked  :  "  Will  you  state,  Senator, 
why  you  make  this  statement  to-day  and  refused 
last  Tuesday  ?  " 

His  tone  roused  the  lion  in  the  old  man.  He 
straightened  up,  and  his  eyes  opened  wide  under 
his  drawn  brows,  like  a  man  who  faces  an  assault. 
"  The  reason  !  You  might  well  ask  why  a  man 
would  stand  here  and  testify  to  his  own  shame. 
I  am  here  to-day,  sir,  because  it  is  my  duty  and 
because  my  wife  and  daughter  have  taught  me 
the  duty  I  owe  my  State.  Because  I  saw  that 
this  committee  and  its  work  was  a  farce  and  a 
by-word  in  the  land." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  sir  ?"  demanded 
the  chairman,  with  a  distinct  threat  in  his  voice. 

"I  mean,  sir,  everybody  said,  'They'll  find 
nothing ;  they'll  never  prove  a  single  charge,  and 
the  road  will  get  its  charter.'  I'm  here,  gentle- 
men of  the  committee,  to  say  that  if  the  confes- 
sion of  a  disgraced  and  ruined  old  man  will  bring 
these  bribers  to  justice,  I'll  take  whatever  share 
of  shame  is  coming  to  me." 

The  cheering  broke  out  again,  falling  into 
instant  silence  as  the  old  man  went  on,  stretch- 
ing out  his  hands  appealingly  to  the  audience,  as 
if  they  represented  the  whole  world,  to  whom  he 
must  send  his  case  finally.  There  was  a  certain 


31  Jttembo:  of  %  Sljiri  f)onst.  179 

majesty  in  his  action,  and  a  fire  of  deep  moral 
conviction  in  his  burning"  eyes. 

"  Citizens  of  our  grand  free  State,  shall  it  be 
said  that  one  man  or  corporation  rules  our  legis- 
lators ?  " 

"  No,  no  !  "  burst  out  fifty  voices.  They  were 
rising  to  the  level  of  his  conviction. 

"What  is  one  man  like  myself  compared  to 
the  purification  that  will  come  with  the  conviction 
of  these  wholesale  bribers  ?  Gentlemen  of  the 
committee,  I'm  ready  to  be  questioned  —  ready 
to  be  impeached.  I'm  not  fit  to  serve"-  His 

voice  grew  husky.  Evelyn,  in  voiceless  agony, 
saw  his  strength  was  failing,  but  she  could  not 
speak. 

"  I've  told  the  truth,  gentlemen.  Those  un- 
scrupulous men  must  be  defeated.  The  people's 
rights  must  be  preserved.  Cross-question  me 
-I'm  ready  —  I  shall  be  satisfied  if — if  I  shall 
be"- 

His  head  swayed  ;  he  clung  to  the  chair ;  his 
eyelids  dropped  a  moment.  Evelyn  screamed. 
Wilson  sprung  to  his  aid.  Everybody  rose  and 
rushed  forward. 

"  Silence  \  Sit  down  !  Sergeant,  clear  the 
room  !  Help  the  Senator  to  a  chair  !  "  shouted 
the  chairman  and  committeemen. 


180  21  Jttemkr  of  tlje  Sfytrir 

"Out  o'  the  way  there!  Let  the  girl 
through.  Stand  back  !  Dammit,  don't  crowd  ! " 

Evelyn  forced  her  way  through  while  the 
committeemen  fought  the  crowd  back. 

"Water!     Stand  off,  there!" 

Silence  fell  as  quickly  as  the  tumult  had 
arisen,  and  Wilson,  who  held  the  insensible 
man  in  his  arms,  was  heard  to  say,  in  very 
quiet,  formal  tone,  strangely  thrilling : 

"  Mr.  Chairman,  the  Senator  is  in  no  condi- 
tion to  be  examined  further.  I  ask  permission 
to  take  him  from  the  room." 

"  Certainly.  The  sergeant-at-arms  will  see 
that  the  way  is  clear,  and  the  room  quiet." 

The  committeemen  resumed  their  seats,  all 
but  the  chairman,  who  remained  standing, 
while  Ward  was  assisted  out,  followed  by 
Evelyn. 

As  the  door  closed  on  them,  Davis  leaped 
to  his  feet,  furious  with  defeat,  pitiless  in  his 
own  extremity. 

"Mr.  Chairman,  I  ask  to  be  recalled.  I  can 
prove  that  man  a  liar  and  a  drunkard  ! " 

"  Whack!"  sounded  the  gavel.  "Mr.  Davis 
will  keep  his  seat.  The  committee  will  confer. 
The  sergeant  will  clear  the  room  at  the  first  dis- 
turbance. It  must  be  quiet." 

The  Attorney-General  arose,  fateful,  introspec- 


21  Ufanbo:  of  tl)e  Sljirir  Jjmwe.  181 

tive,  inexorable.  "  In  the  light  of  Senator 
Ward's  testimony,  Mr.  Chairman,  I  desire  to 
re-examine  Thomas  Brennan,  Robert  Bennett, 
Timothy  Sheehan  and  James  Holbrook." 

"  The  committee  has  decided  to  adjourn  till 
to-morrow  at  two  o'clock,"  said  the  chairman. 
The  reporters  seized  their  hats,  swept  their 
papers  together,  and  rushed  down  the  stairs. 

Tuttle,  assisted  by  two  or  three  bystanders, 
carried  Senator  Ward  into  a  private  room,  where, 
under  their  care,  he  soon  revived.  The  doctor, 
who  had  come  in  answer  to  the  telephone  mes- 
sage, smiled  encouragingly  upon  Evelyn  as  he 
felt  the  old  man's  pulse. 

Evelyn  flashed  back  upon  him  a  faint  smile 
of  relief  and  gratitude. 

"  Is  he  going  to  be  very  ill  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  think  not,"  said  the  young  doctor, 
a  handsome,  smiling  young  man  who  had  the 
absolute  sureness  of  touch  of  a  master,  and  an 
enthusiast  in  his  art.  "  His  pulse  is  growing  in 
power;  he'll  be  quite  himself  very  soon.  A  rush 
of  blood  to  his  head.  Has  he  been  over-exerting 
himself  in  some  way  ?  " 

"  He's  been  speaking  passionately  lately," 
Tuttle  replied. 

"Ah,  that  explains  it.    He'll  be  all  right  pretty 


182  21  JMcmbcr  of  tlje  ffljirlr  $ 

soon.  Get  him  home  as  quickly  as  possible, 
and  keep  him  quiet." 

As  a  matter  of  fact  the  Senator  rested  quite 
calmly  on  the  steamer's  deck  on  the  way  down 
to  Waterside.  Tuttle  saw  him  safely  seated  in 
an  easy-chair  upon  the  boat,  and  said  at  parting  : 
"  I'll  be  down  as  early  as  possible  to  see  you  ; 
perhaps  to-night.  I  wish  you  would  send  word 
to  my  mother  that  I'm  all  right,  in  case  the  ex- 
citement of  the  day  should  reach  her." 

As  he  came  back  up  the  street  the  newsboys 
were  crying  :  "  Evenin'  papers.  All  about  'vesti- 
gation,"  and  everywhere  men  stopped  him  on 
the  street  with  all  sorts  of  wild  suggestions  as 
to  the  next  step  in  the  prosecution. 

"  Jump  on  'em,  Tuttle." 

"  You've  made  your  point,  sure  as  hell !  Never 
thought  you'd  make  it  in  the  world." 

"  You  never  would  if  it  hadn't  'a'  been  for 
Ward.  Swipe 'em  quicker  you'll  lose 'em  sure." 

"Somebody  else  must  do  the  'swiping,'"  he 
replied.  "  I've  done  my  part.  I've  carried  the 
whole  of  this  investigation  on  my  neck,  and  now 
I  propose  to  let  the  prosecution  go  forward  by 
way  of  the  regular  machinery  of  the  State." 

"  Oh,  we'll  all  help  you  now,  Tuttle,"  laughed 
one  of  the  fellows  whom  Wilson  knew  to  be 
friendly  to  the  road. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    ROUT    OF    THE    RATS. 

TN  a  room  situated  above  Sam  Brady's  saloon  a 
*  group  of  the  members  of  the  Third  House 
were  gathered  in  an  atmosphere  dim  with  smoke 
and  foul  with  the  reek  of  tobacco-spittle  and  the 
smell  of  beer  and  whisky.  Crop-headed  waiters 
from  the  saloon  below  dashed  deftly  to  and  fro, 
bringing  platters  of  drinks  from  the  bar  to  the 
groups  of  talkers  seated  in  confidential  attitudes 
upon  the  red-leather  sofas  and  bar-room  chairs 
of  the  room. 

The  roar  of  the  street  outside  made  the  din  of 
talk  within  unintelligible.  There  had  been  no 
regular  meeting  called,  but  the  general  belief 
that  this  was  the  test  day  of  the  trial  and  that 
Tuttle  was  completely  headed  off  brought  them 
all  together  in  a  temper  of  general  merriment. 
Sheehan  was  wildly  drunk  and  was  kept  in  check 
by  Mark  Brady,  a  shrewd,  wiry  little  Irishman, 
the  real  owner  of  the  saloon,  who  ran  up  occa- 
sionally to  keep  careful  watch  upon  the  rising 

183 


184  21  Jttemtor  of  %  Sljtrir 

tide  of  intoxication,  ready  to  utter  a  warning  at 
the  proper  moment. 

He  called  aside  two  or  three  of  the  more  self- 
contained  of  the  group  and  said:  "Now  see 
here,  me  Buccoes,  it  ain't  safe.  Yous  don't 
want  'o  git  swiped  when  y'r  tongues  'r'  loose. 
See?  I  can't  affoord  it.  Not  jist  now.  See? 
I  can't  affoord  it  if  yous  can." 

They  promised  to  look  after  Sheehan  and  the 
others  who  had  preferred  to  make  a  day  and  a 
night  of  it,  and  he  went  down  below  in  answer 
to  a  telephone  call.  He  came  bounding  up  the 
steps,  his  weazened  little  face  comical  with  fear 
and  excitement.  "  The  hell's  t'  pay  now,  sure  !  " 

The   rest  made  a  rush   for   him. 

"What  is  it,    Mark?" 

He  jumped  two  feet  into  the  air  like  a 
jumping-jack  and  uttered  a  string  of  Irish 
oaths  before  he  could  bring  himself  to  intel- 
ligible speech.  "Ward  has  squeaked.  Skip, 
every  domned  mother's  son  o'  yez  ! " 

A  chorus  of  oaths  and  wondering  cries  broke 
forth.  The  men  stared  at  each  other  as  a 
nest  of  rats  might,  feeling  the  shock  of  corn 
shake  over  their  heads. 

"They   can't   touch    us,"  said   one. 

"Can't  they?"  sneered  Mark,  in  unuttera- 
ble scorn.  "The  newspaper  men'll  be  down 


31  Jflnnbn:  of  tl)£  Sljtrb  $on0e.  185 

on  us  like  flies  on  a  gum-bile.  Hell !  They'll 
jail  ivery  hell's  spawn  o'  ye  if  y'  don't  skip." 

"That's  a  fact,"  said  old  Cap.  Baker.  "If 
they  git  one  and  he  squeaks,  we're  all  ripped 
wide  open.  I  calc'late  I  need  a  Nova  Scotia 
voyage.  My  health,  it  ain't  been  s'  good  as 
'twas." 

"  Scatter,  iverybody  !  "  cried  another  powerful 
voice  from  the  stairway.  "Fox  ain't  to  be 
trusted  a  minute." 

The  most  of  them  slipped  out  and  down  the 
stairway,  and  in  less  than  ten  minutes  Mark  was 
alone  with  his  brother  Sam,  a  man  of  large 
frame,  with  a  prize-fighter's  head  and  no  feat- 
ures to  speak  of. 

"What'll  they   do,   Sam?"  asked  Mark. 

"They'll  arrest  Brennan,  Fox  and  the  Gov- 
ernor and  ivery  cussed  mother's  son  of  us  they 
can  git  their  hands  on.  The  air'll  be  full  of  im- 
paichments  and  criminal  suits.  The  big  fellers'll 
be  bailed  out  afterward,  av  coorse,  but  that  won't 
save  us  if  they  git  anny  hold  on  Sheehan.  You 
see  that  he  gits  off,  and  clane  this  thing  up,"  he 
said,  looking  about  the  room.  "Dawn't  lit 
annybody  see  it  like  this.  See  ?  If  Tom 
comes,  tell'm  he'll  find  me  at  home.  Tell'm 
to  skip  quick  as  God'll  let'm." 


186  21  jUcmba  of  tljc  Sljirb 

From  the  moment  that  Senator  Ward  fell,  all 
was  confusion  and  apparent  rout.  Nobody 
knew  how  much  somebody  else  knew,  and 
especially  how  much  he  would  tell.  All  cohe- 
sive power  was  lost  from  the  ranks  of  the  Third 
House  and  their  coadjutors.  Instantly  all  the 
lesser  men  disappeared  like  rats  when  the  last 
sheaf  is  lifted.  Every  one  of  them  distrusted 
Brennan  and  Fox,  and  expected  them  to  impli- 
cate others,  while  Brennan  and  Fox  felt  equally 
sure  that  these  petty  offenders  would  turn  State's 
evidence  upon  the  slightest  provocation,  and 
that,  as  usual,  each  confession  would  involve 
greater  names  and  reach  more  dangerous  inner 
circles.  Therefore,  all  became  a  retreat  —  a 
Waterloo. 

The  papers,  in  each  succeeding  edition,  con- 
tinued to  vociferate  in  half-columns  of  head- 
lines :  "  Crushed  at  last !  !  Prosecute  !  The 
cry  of  the  People  !  Let  it  be  heard  !  Purge 
our  Politics  !  Let  every  honest  man  throw  aside 
party  lines  and  help  to  banish  bribery  ! "  And 
one  paper,  the  Planet,  cried  out  furiously,  "No 
bail ! — Down  with  the  traducers  of  our  State  !  " 

The  arrest  of  Fox,  Brennan  and  Davis  fol- 
lowed quickly  upon  the  return  of  the  commit- 
tee's report,  and  both  houses  were  in  a  tumult 
as  member  after  member  became  implicated.  All 


31  Jttcmbtr  of  %  Sljirir  $cm0£.  187 

other  business  ceased.  The  public  watched 
feverishly  for  each  new  edition  of  the  paper,  and 
read  with  savage  delight  of  each  succeeding 
arrest.  But  the  scoop-net,  thrown  out  just  too 
late,  brought  in  only  a  few  insignificant  and  dis- 
reputable go-betweens,  who  hardly  knew  the 
parties  to  either  side  of  the  criminal  transaction. 
They  implicated  others,  however,  and  arrests 
followed  slowly,  and  the  law's  approach,  though 
gradual,  hemmed  Davis  round  like  a  wall  of 
menacing  fire. 

There  were  plenty  of  people  now  to  surround 
Tuttle  and  take  the  work  of  prosecution  out  of 
his  hands,  for  which  he  was  grateful.  He  was 
genuinely  alarmed  for  Davis,  and  still  believed 
him  to  be  more  of  a  victim  than  a  conspirator. 
Leaving  the  matter  of  the  prosecution,  there- 
fore, in  the  hands  of  the  State,  Tuttle  hurried 
home  to  Waterside  to  see  his  mother  and  to 
reassure  Helene. 

He  found  Mrs.  Tuttle  knitting  tranquilly  on 
the  piazza,  her  serene  old  face  reflecting  the 
sweetness  and  serenity  of  her  mind.  No  noise 
of  the  battle  had  penetrated  into  her  placid  nook, 
warmed  with  the  sunshine  of  ease  and  maternal 
pride.  Officious  neighbors  had  called  her  atten- 
tion to  the  attacks  made  upon  Wilson,  but  it 


188  21  JHemter  of  tlje  Stftrb 

needed  only  a  word  and  a  smile  from  her  boy  to 
reassure  her. 

"  Now  don't  you  worry,  mother/'  he  had  said 
to  her,  "no  matter  what  people  say  or  what  the 
papers  say.  I  am  going  to  be  perfectly  honest 
with  you.  I'll  tell  you  just  how  matters  stand 
every  time." 

And  with  utter  trust  and  pride  she  had  lost  all 
apprehension,  and  the  evening  paper  with  its 
scare-head  first  page  lay  unread,  twisted  like  a 
doughnut,  where  the  boy  had  flung  it  upon  the 
piazza. 

Her  ear,  however,  detected  excitement  in  the 
sound  of  Wilson's  footsteps,  and  she  rose  with 
a  touch  of  quick  anxiety.  "What  is  it,  my 
son?" 

"  I've  won,  mother/'  he  cried,  joyously,  as  he 
ran  up  the  steps.  "  Everybody  is  on  my  side 
now  !  " 

She  put  her  arms  around  his  neck.  She  had 
a  very  vague  idea  of  his  victory,  but  thought  it 
some  sort  of  an  election.  "Well,  I  knew  you 
would,"  she  said,  giving  him  a  squeeze.  "Now, 
come  right  in  to  supper." 

"  I  must  go  over  and  see  Senator  Ward  first. 
How  is  he  ?  Have  you  heard  ? " 

"  No,   I    ain't   heard    nothin'    except    Nettie, 


21  iilnnkr  of  tljc  ftljirii  fjonst.  189 

their  girl,  told  our  girl  that  he  had  come  home 
again  in  a  hack." 

"Well,  he  didn't  come  home  this  time  in  the 
way  you  think.  He's  a  hero,  mother.  I'll  tell 
you  all  about  it  when  I  come  back." 

He  found  Evelyn  sitting  out  under  the  trees, 
looking  at  the  water,  her  large  eyes  full  of  bitter 
reverie.  She  rose  as  he  came  forward,  and  a 
quick  flush  rose  upon  her  face. 

"  How  is  the  Senator?"  he  asked  before  he 
reached  her. 

"  Better,"  she  replied,  with  appreciable  effort. 
"  I  left  him  resting  very  easy.  His  mind  seems 
calmer  than  —  Oh,  what  will  they  do  with  him, 
Mr.  Tuttle  ? " 

The  keen  agony  in  her  voice  made  him  pause 
before  he  slowly  answered:  "I  don't  think  he'll 
be  proceeded  against  criminally.  He'll  be  im- 
peached, possibly,  unless  he  resigns,  which  I 
suppose  he  will  do.  The  impeachment  will  be 
a  mere  form.  I  firmly  believe  he  has  won 
respect  for  himself  by  his  course.  Everybody  is 
speaking  with  admiration  of  his  heroism.  The 
papers  " 

"  I  haven't  dared  to  look  at  one,"  she  replied, 
shrinking  as  if  she  expected  a  blow. 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  to.  They're  pleading 
already  for  clemency.  They  recognize  the  moral 


190  21  Ulembo:  of  %  Sfyirir 

heroism  of  his  position.  Can  I  go  in  and  see 
him?  Is  he  lying  down  ?" 

"  He  was  sleeping  in  his  chair  when  I  came 
out.  I  think  he  wants  to  see  you.  Perhaps 
you  had  better  go  in." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  house.  Senator 
Ward  was  seated  in  his  arm-chair  near  the  win- 
dow, facing  the  sea.  He  turned  his  great  dark 
eyes  upon  Tuttle  inquiringly  as  Evelyn  called 
his  attention.  There  was  something  pathetic  and 
full  of  pleading  in  the  slow  motion  of  his  head. 

"Well,  Senator,  how  do  you  feel  ?" 

"Like  a  man  shipwrecked,  Wilson,"  he  re- 
plied, smiling  a  little  and  putting  his  right  hand 
out  feebly.  Tuttle  took  his  hand  and  drew  a 
chair  up  close  beside  him. 

"  Don't  be  downhearted,  Senator.  Every- 
body has  a  good  word  for  you  to-night.  The 
papers  are  full  of  it.  In  fact,  you've  quite  robbed 
me  of  my  laurels.  Just  listen  to  this  !  " 

He  read  aloud  from  a  paper  which  he  took 
from  his  pocket :  "  If  conviction  follows,  it  will 
be  due  to  the  heroism  of  Senator  Ward  rather 
than  to  the  work  of  Tuttle.  The  corruptionists 
presented  a  wall  of  brass  to  the  enemy.  The 
prosecution  was  helpless  till  Senator  Ward,  like 
another  Winkelried,  took  the  spears  of  the  oppos- 
ing rank  in  his  own  bosom,  and  opened  the  way 


21  member  of  tl)e  Sljtrir  §zmt.  191 

for  the  hosts  of  justice.  No  fair  man  believes 
that  Senator  Ward  was  himself  when  he  touched 
the  offered  gold  " 

Ward  groaned  and  turned  his  head  away. 
The  memory  of  his  ineffable  disgrace  came  back 
upon  him  with  crushing  weight,  conveyed  like 
this  in  the  editorial  column  of  a  great  journal. 
Tuttle  saw  it  and  again  tried  to  comfort  him. 

"Don't  worry  about  the  past,  Senator/'  he 
said,  putting  his  hand  again  into  the  old  man's 
lax  palm.  "Look  ahead.  Things  '11  straighten 
themselves.  As  soon  as  I  get  time,  in  a  day  or 
two,  I  want  to  sit  down  and  go  over  your  affairs 
and  see  if  I  can't  help  you." 

Ward  was  about  to  reply  despairingly,  when 
Mrs.  Ward  came  in. 

"Good  evenin',  Mr.  Tuttle,"  she  said,  a  little 
stiffly.  She  had  a  sort  of  jealousy  in  her  care 
of  her  husband,  and  she  had  an  unreasoning 
repugnance  to  Wilson  at  the  same  time  that  she 
admired  him.  She  could  not  forget  that  he  was 
the  apparent  cause  of  all  their  trouble. 

He  did  not  resent  this,  but  sat  a  moment  watch- 
ing her  as  she  tried  to  induce  her  husband  to  eat. 

"  Now,  father,  you  know  food  '11  do  y'  good. 
You  know  'twill.  This  chicking  I  fried  m'self, 
and  it's  jest  as  tender  as  it  can  be,  and  the  tea's 
jest  right.  I  never  had  better  luck." 


192  21  Jtlembr  of  %  Sl/trir 

He  submitted,  and  when  she  insisted  on  put- 
ting the  napkin  about  his  neck  as  if  he  were  a 
baby,  he  was  able  to  look  out  of  the  circle  of  her 
arms  and  smile  faintly  at  Tuttle. 

"  I  believe  she  enjoys  havin'  me  sick,"  he  said. 

Tuttle  laughed  heartily,  and  the  whole  room 
seemed  to  lighten  up.  Mrs.  Ward's  ignorance 
of  the  political  world  was  wonderfully  whole- 
some, and,  besides  that,  she  carried  with  her  an 
odor  of  comfort  and  home-cooking  which  was 
irresistible. 

Evelyn,  hearing  Tuttle  laugh,  came  in  wonder- 
ingly. 

Tuttle  met  her  at  the  door.  "  The  patient 
improves  !  "  he  said,  with  a  tone  of  voice  which 
had  the  effect  of  a  joyful  shout.  "  Have  you 
seen  Helene  ? "  he  asked  of  her,  as  they  stood 
on  the  piazza. 

"  No  ;  she  has  not  been  over  lately.  She  had 
a  lot  of  company  from  the  Point  to-day." 

"  I'm  going  over  now  to  see  her,"  he  returned, 
as  he  stood  on  the  steps  looking  up  at  her. 
"Now,  when  I  can  find  time  I  want  to  go  over 
your  father's  affairs  and  see  if  I  can't  help  you 
straighten  them  out  for  him.  Let  me  do  that 
much  for  him,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  think  it  worth  your  while.  I  am 
afraid  there  is  little  left,"  she  replied,  in  somber 


51  JlUmber  of  %  Sljirir  $ou0c.  193 

fashion.  As  he  walked  away  up  the  street  she 
wondered  whether  this  political  calamity  would 
not  bring  Helene  back  to  him. 

Tuttle  went  to  see  Helene  and  was  astonished 
by  her  action.  She  ran  to  him  like  a  child  and 
hid  her  face  in  his  breast.  It  drove  all  questions 
of  public  policy  out  of  his  mind.  He  just  put 
his  arms  about  her  and  kissed  her  hair,  and 
called  her  name  in  the  voice  of  one  whom  sud- 
den joy  confuses.  He  said  a  good  many  things 
which  were  true,  and  some  that  were  only  com- 
forting. He  assured  her  that  her  father  was 
safe ;  that  his  arrest  was  a  mere  form ;  that  he 
would  be  released  on  bail  at  once,  and  would  be 
at  home  soon.  He  said  he  knew  Mr.  Davis  had 
not  been  guilty.  Fox  and  Brennan  —  at  Bren- 
nan's  name  he  hesitated  as  if  there  were  some- 
thing to  be  explained,  but  she  explained  it  all 
by  simply  nestling  a  little  closer  to  him  and 
putting  her  hands  up  about  his  neck. 

At  last  she  looked  up  at  him  with  her  tear- 
inflamed  eyes. 

"  I  know  I'm  a  fright,  but  I  can't  help  it. 
Everybody  said  he'd  go  to  prison,  and  —  and  — 
I  didn't  have  anybody  —  to  —  to  cry  to  !  and  I 
wanted  to  see  you  so.  Don't  go  away  till  poppa 
comes  —  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  must  go  home  to  dinner." 

13 


194  21  JHemtar  of  tlje  SIjtrii 

"  Oh,  stay  and  take  dinner  with  me  !  There 
ain't  anybody  with  me.  The  girls  all  went  home 
when  the  papers  came.  Please  stay,"  she  pleaded. 

"Well,  I  will  if  you'll  send  word  over  to 
mother  for  me." 

When  they  went  out  into  the  beautiful  dining- 
room  she  looked  quite  like  her  usual  self.  Care- 
ful bathing  and  powdering  had  removed  the 
effects  of  crying,  and  she  was  irresistibly  attract- 
ive to  poor  Wilson  in  her  remorseful  tenderness 
and  her  childish,  helpless  trust  in  him.  She  had 
put  on  an  exquisite  robe  whose  color  was  surely 
intended  to  aid  in  removing  the  effects  of  tears. 

They  had  a  wonderful  dinner,  Tuttle  thought. 
It  made  the  events  of  the  day  seem  like  an  opium 
dream.  It  seemed  impossible  that  Davis  should 
be  connected  with  the  Third  House.  It  must  be 
all  a  mistake.  While  they  were  eating  their  fish 
a  telegram  came  to  confirm  this  impression. 
Helene  read  it  aloud : 

"  Don't  worry,  pet.  This  is  simply  a  political  game.  I'll  not  be 
down  to-night.  I  am  all  right.  Never  mind  the  newspapers. 

"From  PAPA  DAVIS." 

Helene  kissed  the  telegram  and  laughed  gaily 
when  Tuttle  suggested,  with  unnatural  humor, 
that  she  might  kiss  the  messenger  boy  too.  She 
wrote  a  reply,  and  sent  the  boy  away  with  an 
extra  quarter  instead  of  a  kiss,  and  then  they 


21  Jttemba:  af  %  ftljtrir  <5cm0e.  195 

went  on  with  their  dinner  with   incredibly  light 
hearts. 

Tuttle  wondered  where  her  aunt  was,  and  said 
so.  "  It  seems  like  a  special  dispensation  of 
Providence  that  we  are  eating  dinner  in  this 
cozy  way." 

"  Well,  it  isn't !  "  she  laughed.  "  I  told  auntie 
not  to  come  down,  and  that's  the  reason  why." 

"  How  you  must  tyrannize  over  her.  Are  there 
any  others  waiting  our  superb  leisure?" 

"Not  to-night — only  auntie.  She  does  just 
what  I  ask  her.  She's  a  perfect  love  for  a  chap- 
erone.  All  the  girls  are  perishing  with  envy 
over  my  freedom" 

"And  her  slavery."  Tuttle  was  like  a  man 
inebriated  with  some  divine  stimulant  —  some 
rare  and  potent  perfume  —  which  had  power  to 
drive  out  age  and  care.  He  was  scarcely  older 
than  Helene  during  that  glorious  evening.  He 
laughed  when  she  chattered,  and  his  talk  was 
almost  as  gay  as  her  own. 

When  he  went  away  at  night  he  promised  to 
call  and  see  her  in  the  morning  on  his  way  to 
town,  and  when  he  walked  off  down  the  moonlit 
lawn  it  seemed  as  if  there  were  to  be  no  dirges 
for  the  slain  mingled  with  the  exultant  songs 
of  his  great  victory.  He  had  Helene's  love. 
Senator  Ward  was  tranquil  —  happier  than  be- 


196  21  Jttembn-  of  tlje  ftljirb 

fore  his  confession  —  and  Davis,  he  still  tried  to 
believe,  had  been  made  use  of  by  Fox  and 
Brennan.  He  hummed  a  tune  as  he  walked. 

It  was  only  as  he  lay  down  in  the  quiet  of  his 
room  that  a  mysterious  look  in  Evelyn  Ward's 
eyes  came  back  to  disturb  him.  He  knew  what 
it  was.  It  was  something"  he  had  met  before, 
and  it  always  filled  him  with  a  bitter  rebellion. 
Must  it  always  be  so  —  that  beautiful  souls  in 
plain  bodies  must  suffer  alone  —  must  love  in 
silence  and  defeat? 

The  next  morning,  as  he  ate  his  breakfast,  he 
read  the  leading  papers,  which  were  black  with 
huge  head-lines  still  crying  out  for  prosecution. 
One  entire  page  was  given  to  interviews  with 
the  senators,  most  of  whom  said  that  Rufus 
Ward  must  be  impeached,  but  not  prosecuted. 
There  were  also  rumors  that  one  or  two  of  the 
guilty  legislators  had  disappeared.  Brennan, 
Fox  and  Davis  had  been  arrested,  and  bailed 
out,  of  course,  almost  immediately.  He  stopped 
as  he  went  by  Davis'  house,  and  left  a  note  for 
Helene,  begging  her  not  to  go  up  to  the  city  ; 
that  he  would  see  the  Iron  Duke  and  bring  him 
home  to  dinner  sure. 

When  he  entered  the  committee-room  he 
found  it  impressively  quiet.  It  was  no  longer 
the  lobby  of  a  variety  show.  The  committee 


21  Jilrmbn:  of  %  ®l)irir  fjonst.  197 

had  ordered  the  doors  closed  against  the  public. 
The  prosecution  now  took  its  seat  as  master  of 
the  situation.  The  chairman  now  no  longer 
laughed  at  jokes  by  Tom  Brennan.  The  king 
of  the  Third  House  had  been  dethroned.  Bin- 
ney  had  waked  from  his  dozing.  Fox  and  Davis 
were  absent.  Most  of  the  witnesses  now  had 
the  solemn  air  of  prisoners.  The  only  men  who 
appeared  precisely  the  same  as  before  were  the 
first  committeeman  and  the  Attorney-General, 
who  was  as  deliberate  and  apparently  as  benig- 
nantly  uninterested  in  the  case  as  ever.  His 
face  betrayed  neither  haste  nor  anxiety. 

A  few  witnesses  were  examined  swiftly  and  in 
deadly  earnest  by  the  first  committeeman  and 
the  chairman,  who  had  become  ferociously  op- 
posed to  the  road.  His  zeal  was  unequaled. 

At  last  the  Attorney-General  rose  to  speak. 
He  balanced  his  glasses  between  his  thumb  and 
finger,  and  said  with  impressive  placidity  :  "  Our 
work,  Mr.  Chairman,  is  practically  over."  He 
put  on  his  glasses,  looked  at  a  slip  in  his  hand, 
then  gazed  about  upon  the  committee  over  the 
tops  of  his  glasses  with  kindly  interest,  as  if  to 
include  them  all  in  his  triumph.  "We  have 
proved  the  guilt  of  the  various  gentlemen  whom 
we  named  at  the  beginning  as  principals,  and  have 
shown  that  the  Third  House  does  exist  and  is 


198  21  Jttcmbcr  of  %  tljirb 

subsidized.  The  law  of  the  State  will  now  take 
care  of  it.  We  have  proven  that  Senator  Ward, 
Senator  Holway  and  several  legislators  have 
been  tampered  with.  Their  impeachment  lies 
with  the  members  of  this  legislative  body.  An 
era  of  reformation  has  begun.  The  credit  of  its 
beginning  and  its  success  is  due  to  this  young 
man  at  my  left.  And  now,  gentlemen,  I  can't 
close  without  a  word  of  moral.  The  cure  of  this 
is  suggested  in  the  conviction.  So  long  as 
legislators  have  the  power  to  vote  public  values 
into  private  pockets  the  lobby  will  continue  to 
exist,  and  its  damning  work  will  be  seen  in  the 
ruin  of  men  like  Senator  Ward  and  Mr.  Davis ; 
for,  as  I  conceive  it,  he  is  a  victim  of  corruption 
as  well  as  himself  being  a  corrupting  agent." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE    IRON    DUKE    RECKONS    WITH    HIMSELF. 

THERE  come  moments  in  a  man's  life  when 
he  sits  down  and  reckons  with  himself.  It 
is  usually  at  night,  just  before  going  to  bed, 
when  the  house  is  silent  and  the  outside  world 
very  dim  and  insubstantial.  At  such  moments  a 
man  wants  to  be  alone  ;  wife  nor  children  nor 
mother  is  welcome.  The  soul  is  calling  out  for 
an  unbroken  moment  of  introspection,  wherein 
to  readjust  values  and  start  in  anew. 

In  such  an  hour  the  man  stands  for  what  he 
really  is,  an  infinitesimal  insect,  lost  in  a  swarm 
of  similar  flecks  of  life  produced  by  this  decay- 
ing globe  of  ours.  In  such  an  hour  Napoleon 
looked  down  at  himself  and  saw  that  he  was  an 
undersized  man  with  an  abnormally  developed 
head.  In  such  moments  it  must  be  that  the 
billionaire  marvels  at  the  conjunction  of  forces 
that  has  made  for  him  hundreds  of  millions,  and 
sees  himself  a  small  man,  differing  from  the 
type,  as  one  blackbird  differs  from  another,  by  a 

fraction  of  an  inch. 

199 


200  21  Jttembcr  of  %  Sljirb 

Sitting"  alone  at  night  in  a  farm-house,  with 
the  whippoorwill's  infinitely  pathetic  note  float- 
ing1 in  on  the  sweet  summer  wind,  with  the  in- 
comprehensible stars  swinging  their  appalling- 
circles  in  the  silence  of  the  upper  air,  Herbert 
Spencer's  mighty  brain  might  say,  "What  is  it 
all  ?  And  what  does  it  matter  ?  " 

Lawrence  Davis  was  not  a  philosopher.  He 
had  not  been  a  thinker.  Like  most  men  of  his 
type,  he  had  lived  such  a  life  of  material  activity 
and  narrowness  that  his  hours  of  reckoning  with 
himself  had  been  few  and  short.  His  life, 
momentous  as  it  seemed  to  him,  was  narrow, 
grooved  and  fruitless.  It  returned  upon  itself. 
At  sixty  years  of  age  he  was  breaking,  evidenced 
by  his  purple  face,  his  snow-white  hair,  his  pro- 
truding- stomach,  and  the  clumsy  use  of  his  feet 
and  hands  —  and  all  this  at  a  time  when  his 
affairs  were  most  insecure.  Everything-  which 
he  called  his  was  at  this  moment  out  of  his 
reach. 

His  whole  business  life  and  possessions  were 
founded  upon  a  vested  wrong,  which  he  per- 
sisted in  arguing  was  a  vested  right.  It  could 
endure  only  so  long  as  the  conscience  of  the 
people  slept.  He  was  like  a  man  whose  vine- 
yard is  on  the  slope  of  Vesuvius,  with  this 
difference  :  that  the  voice  of  the  thunder  had 


21  Jtfembcr  of  tlje  Sljirtr  §<m$t.  201 

not  spoken  from  this  particular  throat,  but  only 
threatened  it  now  for  the  first  time. 

When  the  hand  of  the  law  was  laid  on  his 
shoulder  came  the  first  great  mental  shock,  and, 
indeed,  a  physical  shock,  which  nearly  laid  him 
dead  of  apoplexy.  For  hours  he  lay  like  a  man 
stupefied  with  drink,  confused,  and  uncertain  of 
action.  When  he  appeared  before  the  court  he 
staggered.  He  was  bailed  out  promptly,  of 
course,  by  other  officers  of  the  road.  His  first 
care  was  to  wire  Helene  that  there  was  no 
danger.  He  fancied  her  alarmed,  and  he  wished 
to  spare  her  as  long  as  possible.  Every  time 
he  thought  of  her  he  shook. 

He  was  appalled  at  the  change  in  the  tone 
of  the  press.  There  was  something  awful  in 
the  desertion  of  his  aids,  in  the  dispersion  of 
those  who  had  swarmed  about  him,  eager  for  a 
share  of  the  spoils.  He  knew  that  this  was  a 
common  experience,  but  it  appealed  to  him  with 
startling  power,  nevertheless.  Even  the  few 
friends  who  met  him  on  the  day  following  his 
arrest  and  release  on  bail,  though  they  shook 
hands  with  him,  carried  something  in  their  eyes 
which  angered  and  irritated  him,  made  him  de- 
sire to  be  alone.  As  night  fell,  he  sat  in  his 
great  gloomy,  silent  house  on  Courtney  Street, 
at  his  desk  in  his  library,  writing  with  a  dogged 


202  21  Jttembn:  of  tlje  Sljirir 

and  persistent  haste  that  told  he  had  set  himself 
a  task  which  must  be  finished  within  a  limited 
time. 

It  was  cool  and  close  in  the  house,  but  outside 
it  was  very  hot,  and  the  fat  policeman  walking 
the  deserted  streets  wondered  why  it  was  that 
in  one  part  of  the  city  people  should  be  sleeping 
in  the  gutters  for  the  lack  of  room,  and  this  part 
of  the  city  be  deserted,  and  miles  of  windows 
and  doors  boarded  up.  Luckily,  he  was  able  to 
shake  his  head  and  give  it  up  as  insoluble. 

The  curtains  and  blinds  of  the  Iron  Duke's 
superb  library  were  closely  drawn,  and  no  light 
shone  out  into  the  hot  murk  of  the  night.  It 
was  about  ten  o'clock,  and  the  house  was  very 
silent.  The  floor  was  littered  with  scraps  of 
paper,  and  little  tin  boxes  spilled  their  contents 
on  chairs  and  carpet.  Over  his  head  the  single 
flower-like  electric  lamp  depended,  and  its  pale 
blue  light  accentuated  the  bluish  splotches  on 
his  face.  His  attitude  and  action  denoted  des- 
perate haste. 

A  far-off  train  whistled,  and  he  listened  uncon- 
sciously, the  pen  held  between  his  fingers.  The 
clock  striking  ten  aroused  him,  and  he  rose  and 
walked  to  the  private  telephone  near  his  desk, 
which  he  rang  furiously. 

"Hello!     What's  the  matter?— Oh,    is    that 


21  JtUmbcr  of  i\)t  Sljirir  §omt.  203 

you,  Mrs.  Fox  ?  Has  he  come  in  yet  ?  —  He 
hasn't  ?  Didn't  he  send  any  word  to  me  ? 
— Well,  that's  singular  !  If  he  comes,  will  you 
tell  him  I'm  at  my  house  ?  I  say,  tell  him  I'm 
here.  But  —  wait  a  moment,  please.  If  any 
one  else  inquires,  tell  'em  I'm  down  to  the 
beach.  That's  all." 

He  turned  away  with  a  muttered  oath,  clench- 
ing" his  hands  and  speaking  through  his  teeth. 
"Damned  coward  !  He's  left  me." 

A  knock  was  heard  at  the  door,  and,  at  his 
word,  Robert  entered.  His  face  had  the  same 
calm,  judicial  expression,  his  voice  soft  and 
deep,  his  enunciation  precise.  His  manner  dif- 
fered in  no  way  from  his  usual  manner  in  the 
office.  Davis  turned  to  him  with  pleasure. 

"  Ah,  Robert !     What's  the  latest  news  ?  " 

"  I  can't  find  Fox  or  Tom,  sir." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  What  does  it  all 
mean  ?  Have  they  skipped  ?  " 

"It  looks  like  it,  but  they  may  be  keeping 
quiet  here  in  the  city.  If  they  don't  report  to- 
morrow " 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?  Have  they  gone 
back  on  me?  Come  now." 

Robert  mused  a  moment.  "  Well,  I  shall  know 
by  the  time  I  get  back  to  the  office.  I've  sent 
out  some  detectives  to  various  parts  of  the  city 


204  21  ittcmter  of  tl)e  Sl)irt  (Sjoust 

where  they  are  likeliest  to  be  found.  I'll  tele- 
phone you  the  result,  and,  by  the  way,  be  careful 
how  you  use  the  telephone.  The  damp  air  in- 
creases the  induction.  Our  private  wire  isn't 
very  private.  I'll  tell  you  through  King's  name. 
If  I  say  Smith  has  gone  to  the  beach,  you'll  know 
Fox  has  skipped.  Brown  will  stand  for  Tom. 
See?" 

"  All  right,  Robert.  It  looks  pretty  bad  for 
me,  doesn't  it,  Robert  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  sudden 
longing  for  sympathv,  as  the  young  man  turned 
away. 

"Yes,  it  does,"  admitted  Robert.  "But  I 
think  you'll  pull  through,  all  the  same.  I 
haven't  been  on  the  street  to-day,  but  I  hear  — 
I  hear  there  is  great  excitement  up  at  the  Capitol. 
Senators  are  being  impeached.  The  papers  are 
full  of  it,  of  course.  Anyhow,  there's  nothing 
gained  by  getting  worried,"  he  concluded,  in  an 
attempt  to  be  of  comfort. 

"  I  wish  I  had  your  head  to-night,  my  boy," 
replied  Davis.  "Mine  is  almost  useless.  Well, 
now,  keep  me  posted  on  all  that  goes  on  at  the 
office.  Let  me  know  the  worst,  won't  you  ? 
Don't  keep  anything  from  me  at  all." 

"All  right,  sir.  Everything  is  going  on  just 
as  usual,  and  I  think  the  public  feel  the  effects  of 
that.  Good  night,  sir.  You  had  better  go  to 


31  JlUmbo;  of  tl)c  Stjirir  jjonsf.  205 

bed  and  try  to  get  some  sleep.  I  shall  stay  at 
the  office  until  twelve.  In  case  anything  impor- 
tant turns  up,  I'll  let  you  know.  Good  night." 
"  Good  night,  Robert.  I  wish  all  were  as 
trusty  as  you  are.  Good  night." 

After  Robert  had  gone  Davis  returned  to  his 
desk  and  sat  leaning  with  his  head  on  his  hands. 
While  sitting  thus  there  came  another  knock  at 
the  door,  and  the  housekeeper  entered. 

"  Shure  is  there  annything  more  I  can  do,  sir  ?  " 
"  Nothing,  Mary  —  only  don't  bother  me." 
"Then  so  be  y'  dawn't  moind,  sir,  I'll  be  goin' 
to  bed,  shure." 

"  Very  well.     Where's  Tim  ? " 
"  He  went  out  to  the  theater,  sir." 
"  Well,  perhaps  you  had  better  stay  up  till  he 
comes.     Then  be  sure  you   lock    up."     As  he 
talked  he  was  searching  among  his  papers  and  in 
his  pockets  as   if  he  had   lost  some   important 
document.     He  arose  at  last  as   if  looking  for 
something. 

Mary  looked  around  in  wonder.  She  began 
to  fear  for  her  master.  He  was  not  like  himself. 
The  bell  rang,  and  she  started. 

"Well,  now!  Who's  callin'  this  time  o' 
night  ?  " 

After  she  had  gone  out  into  the  hall  Davis 
came  back  into  the  room,  feeling  in  his  pockets 


206  21  Jttcmbn:  of  tlje  Sljtrb  $cm0c. 

again,  looking  about  the  desk,  and  went  out 
again,  muttering  to  himself. 

Mary  re-entered,  with  Helene.  "Shure,  Miss, 
he's  been  jist  at  his  desk  since  noon.  It's  crazy 
he  do  be  gettin'  wid  his  wroitin'.  Not  a  drop 
o'  tay  nor  a  crumb  o'  bread  has  he  had 
this  noight,  and  me  wid  the  supper  all  on  the 
table  for  him.  '  Don't  bodder  me/  says  he, 
wavin'  his  hand.  '  I'm  a  wroitin'/  says  he. 
*  You  better  be  atin'/  says  I." 

Helene,  who  looked  radiantly  happy,  was 
drawing  off  her  gloves.  "Nothing  to  eat? 
Why,  he  must  be  awfully  worried.  I'll  make 
him  eat.  You  see  if  I  don't." 

"Mary,  didn't  I  hear  the  bell?"  said  Davis, 
re-entering.  He  seemed  startled  and  surprised 
at  sight  of  Helene. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  this  time  of  the 
night  ?  Didn't  I  " 

Helene  went  up  and  put  her  arms  about  his 
neck.  "Now,  don't  scold.  I  couldn't  stay  down 
there  all  alone  with  you  up  here  in  this  gloomy, 
musty  old  house.  Why,  how  pale  you  are ! 
Are  you  sick?  " 

"No.  Did  you  come  alone?  How'd  you 
happen  to  come,  anyhow?" 

"Now,  don't  be  cross,  poppa.     I   came  be- 


21  JHtmbo:  of  %  Sfytri  §cm0e.  207 

cause  Wilson  said  I'd  better.  He  said  you 
might  need  me." 

Davis  stared  at  her.  "Wilson  said  I  might 
need  you  ?  What  else  did  he  say?  Tell  me," 
he  added,  sternly. 

"  Don't  look  so  cross.  I'll  shake  you  if  you 
do,"  she  said,  with  a  pretty  assumption  of 
authority.  "  He  said  you  were  alone  up  here 
and  worried,  and  —  and  so  I  came  right  up  with 
him.  Now  you  tell  me  all  about  it.  Mary  said 
you  hadn't  had  any  supper." 

Davis  turned  away.  "I've  got  something 
else  to  do  besides  eat.  Besides,  I  don't  feel 
like  it." 

Helene  stamped  her  foot  and  wrinkled  her 
brow.  "  But  you  must  eat.  Now,  I'm  going  to 
get  you  something,  and  you've  got  to  eat  it,  sir. 
I'm  not  going  to  have  you  write  and  write  and 
go  to  bed  without  any  supper." 

"  I  can't  eat,  child.  I'm  too  busy,"  Davis  said, 
in  a  gentler  tone.  u  Besides,  you — you'll  bother 
me." 

"No,  I  won't.  Just  a  cup  of  chocolate.  I'm 
going  to  make  it  on  that  lovely  little  alcohol 
stove.  Come,  now ;  it  will  help  you  to  sleep. 
And  I'll  roast  some  crackers" 

"  Sleep  !  I  wish  I  could  sleep.  Very  well, 
bring  in  your  things,  and  make  it  here  by  me 


208  21  Jflembn:  of  tlje  Sfyirt  jjorwe. 

while  I  work.  I've  got  some  more  writing 
to  do." 

Helene  clapped  her  hands  childishly.  The 
novelty  of  camping  down  in  this  great  house 
pleased  her.  "  Oh,  that'll  be  fun  !  And  I  know 
it'll  do  you  good." 

"  Well,  well ;  now  go  about  it,  and  don't  talk  to 
me  too  much,"  Davis  said,  returning  to  his  desk, 
after  his  concession. 

Helene  went  out,  and  soon  re-entered,  accom- 
panied by  Mary,  who  carried  a  platter  containing 
milk,  hot  water,  etc.  They  arranged  a  little 
table,  while  Davis  worked  on  at  his  writing. 

"  Now,  poppa,  the  chocolate'll  be  ready  in  a 
few  minutes,  and  we'll  have  a  little  supper 
here  just  as  cozy  as  can  be.  I  don't  need  you 
any  more,  Mary  ;  you  can  go  to  bed  now." 

After  the  girl  went  out,  Davis  rose  from  his 
desk,  came  over,  and  seated  himself  in  an  easy- 
chair  near  Helene. 

"  Helene,  my  girl,  I  wish  you'd  stayed  down 
at  the  beach  with  Evelyn  and  Tuttle.  I  think 
you  ought  to.  Do  you  feel  just  right  about 
your  trouble  with  Tuttle  ?  " 

Helene  tried  to  look  very  stern. 

"Why,  he's  made  all  this  trouble  —  how 
should  I"- 

Davis  rose  and  walked  the  floor.    "He  wasn't 


21  ilfembn;  of  tl)e  Stjirir  §on0e. 

to  blame.  He  was  only  doing  what  I  should 
have  done  in  his  place.  I  wasn't  to  blame,  either. 
I  was  obliged  to  do  what  I  did.  It's  the  cursed 
condition  of  things  —  that  infernal  band  of  high- 
waymen up  there — that  pushed  me  into  it."  He 
came  back  to  her.  "  If  I'd  been  successful,  I 
don't  believe  I  could  have  seen  you  marry  Tom 
Brennan,  and  now — well,  he's  no  man  for  you. 
Here's  a  man.  Read  that."  He  handed  her  a 
letter  of  Tuttle's  which  she  read  aloud : 

"  Mr.  L.  B.  Davis. 

"  DEAR  SIR  :  I  write  to  say  that  I  was  deeply  pained  and  sincerely 
surprised  at  the  result  of  our  investigation.  I  did  not  expect  to  involve 
you  in  any  criminal  transaction.  I  write  now,  hoping  you  will  under- 
stand my  position.  This  question  is  above  personal  friendship,  above 
personal  choice.  But  I  would  like  to  serve  you  in  any  honorable  way, 
and  as  a  friend,  if  I  can  do  anything  for  you,  or  for  Helene,  make  use  of 
me.  Believe  me,  yours, 

"  WILSON  TUTTLE." 

Helene  wrinkled  up  her  brows  in  a  vain  effort 
to  fathom  it  all.  "I  don't  understand  it  at  all  — 
it's  a  dreadful  mix  —  only  the  spirit  of  it.  It 
sounds  noble,  just  like  him,  though." 

She  suddenly  threw  her  arms  again  about  his 
neck.  "Poppa,  I  want  you  to  do  something  for 
me.  Will  you?  Will  you?" 

Davis  took  her  tenderly  on  his  lap,  and  said 
gravely  : 

"I  can  tell  better  after  I  know  what  it  is." 

Helene  put  her  face  down  on  his  breast.    For 


210  21  ltlember  of  tlje  ®t)irir 

some  inscrutable  reason  she  seemed  to  be  embar- 
rassed and  timid.  "  But  I'm  afraid —  I  mean,  I 
must  tell  you — that  I  saw  Wilson  to-day  — 
alone." 

"Well,  I've  no  particular  objection." 
Helene  sat  up  on  his  knee  and  pulled  at  his 
coat-buttons.  "But,  on  the  way  up  —  I  —  have 
made  it  all  up  with  him.  Oh,  I've  been  just 
about  sick,  poppa,  ever  since  that  day  —  you 
remember  —  but  I  begged  his  pardon  —  and  he 
thought  he  was  doing  right  —  and  I  had  to  for- 
give him,  though  I  didn't  know  exactly  what  he'd 
done." 

She  ended  in  her  usual  inconsequential  way. 

"  And  what  about  Tom  ?     Didn't  you  " 

"That's  just  it,"  she  went  on,  wildly.    "  I  want 
you  to  tell  Tom  that  I  didn't  really  mean — that 

I  didn't  really  know  what  I " 

Davis  smiled  a  little  in  spite  of  himself.     "  I'm 
to  tell  him  that  you  want  to  back  out?  " 

"  Oh,  you  make  it  so  vulgar  by  saying  that." 
"  Well,  that's  what  we'd  call  it  in  business. 
Well,  now,  don't  you  worry.  It'll  come  out  all 
bright  and  happy  for  you."  There  was  a  touch 
of  emphasis  upon  you,  which,  though  lost  upon 
Helene,  had  a  world  of  meaning  in  it.  "Now, 
you  must  go  to  bed  and  don't  worry  about  me. 


21  ilfcmbcr  of  tlje  Sljirb  fijonse.  211 

I'll  come  out  all  right.  They  ain't  going  to  hurt 
me." 

"Poor  poppa!  But  you're  so  worried.  I 
know  you  are.  Your  forehead  is  all  wrinkled 
up.  I'll  smooth  it  out  just  as  I  used  to,  if  you'll 
promise  not  to  wrinkle  it  up  again." 

She  touched  with  her  lips  the  scowl  of  battle 
on  his  forehead,  and  then  laid  her  cheek  down 
on  his  shoulder.  "  It  seems  so  selfish  in  me  to 
be  happy  when  you're  in  trouble,  you  dear,  dear 
old  poppa.  But  I'm  just  a  little  girl  to-night.  I 
can't  think  of  anything,  I'm  so  happy.  I  won- 
der if  all  girls  act  so  silly  when  they  " She 

sat  up  suddenly.  "  Wouldn't  society  stare  to 
see  me  sitting  in  your  lap  like  a  baby  ?  I  don't 
care  !  You're  all  the  poppa  I've  got,  and  I'm 
your  little  mother,  you  know,  and  I  ain't  going 
to  let  you  worry.  That's  what  I  promised 
mamma,  don't  you  remember  ?  " 

This  completed  the  suggestion  which  began 
with  the  touch  of  her  lips  to  his  forehead.  He 
broke  down  into  a  groan  that  was  almost  a 
wail.  "  Oh  !  my  God  !  Don't  talk  that  way,  my 
child  !  You'll  break  my  heart !  " 

He  drew  her  convulsively  down  upon  his 
breast,  and  laid  his  cheek  upon  her  hair. 
"  Don't  chatter  so  like  a  child.  You  make  me 
crazy,  thinking  of  her.  Oh,  I  wish  the  whole  of 


212  21  JHembor  of  %  ftljirtr 

my  damn  business  had  sunk  before  I'd  got  into 
this!  Why  couldn't  I  have  been  contented  ?  " 

Helene  started  up  again  and  looked  into  his 
face,  with  more  of  a  realization  of  this  trouble 
than  before.  "  Why,  father,  wh — what's  the 
the  matter?  Have  I  said  anything  ?" 

"  No,  no.  Don't  mind  me.  Put  your  head 
down  on  my  shoulder  again.  I'll  speak  to  Tom 
when  I  see  him.  I  never  felt  right  about  that. 
I  knew  you  didn't  mean  it.  But  Tom  was  use- 
ful to  me,  and  so  I — but  no  matter  now.  I'll 
sleep  better  to-night  if  I  know  that  you  and 
Wilson  have  come  to  an  understanding.  Now 
you  better  go  to  bed  yourself.  You  need  sleep." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  sleep,  I'm  so  happy.  Only 
I'm  worried  for  you."  She  leaped  up  at  the 
sound  of  the  water  boiling  and  made  him  a  cup 
of  chocolate,  talking,  as  she  did  so,  with  many 
gestures  and  attitudes.  At  last  she  handed  him 
a  cup  and  saucer,  which  he  held,  sipping  while 
they  talked. 

"  Now,  I  know  that'll  do  you  good." 

"Well,  now,  don't  worry  about  me.  I'll  come 
out  all  right.  And,  whatever  happens  to  me  — 
I  mean  whatever  anybody  says  of  me  —  don't 
you  forget  that  I  did  what  seemed  the  best 
thing." 

"  Of  course  not.    But,  oh,  poppa,  I'm  so  happy 


21  JJUmbn:  of  tlje  fttjtrir  §cm0r.  213 

and  relieved !  You  know,  when  you've  cared 
for  one  person,  and  didn't  dare  to  think  so,  and 
then  got  angry  and  promised  another  person 
that  you  didn't  care  so  much  about,  and  then,  at 
last,  made  up  with  the  first  person,  and  feel  now 
that  you  can  like  him  all  you  please  —  oh,  it's  so 
delicious  and  relieving,  don't  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  I've  been  a  girl !  And, 
now,  run  along  like  a  good  little  child.  I'll  sip 
my  chocolate  while  I  write.  It's  been  a  great 
comfort  to  see  you  once  more." 

''Poppa,  there's  something  in  your  voice  that  I 
can't  understand.  What  are  you  thinking  of?" 

"  Well,  for  one  thing,  I'm  thinking  you're  en- 
gaged now,  and  you  can't  be  my  little  mother 
much  longer." 

"  It  won't  make  the  slightest  difference,  not 
the  teeniest  bit,"  she  protested.  But  he  knew  the 
inevitable  separation  had  already  begun. 

"You'll  see.     And  now,  good  night." 

He  stood  gazing  after  her  for  a  long  time, 
drew  a  deep  sigh,  and  resumed  his  stern  manner. 
He  took  up  a  bundle  of  papers  and  looked  over 
one  or  two  of  them,  glanced  at  a  newspaper, 
crushed  it  in  his  hand,  and  thrust  it  violently  into 
the  waste-basket  At  last  he  took  a  revolver 
from  his  desk  and  looked  at  it  in  a  curious, 
shrinking,  yet  fascinated,  way.  How  easy  it 


214  21  JHember  of  %  ftljirb  <Ijou0c. 

would  be  to  escape  it  all  —  if  it  were  not  for 
Helene  —  was  the  dark  undercurrent  of  his 
thought.  As  he  sat  thus,  Helene,  with  her  hair 
unbraided  and  slippers  on  her  feet,  re-entered 
noiselessly  and  approached  him  in  roguish 
stealth.  She  gave  a  gasp  of  instinctive  fear. 
"  What  are  you  doing  with  that  ?  " 

Davis  started  like  a  criminal.  His  hands 
shook  while  putting  the  revolver  back  into  the 
drawer.  "Oh,  I  was  just — I  was  just — look- 
ing to  see  if  it  was  loaded  —  that  was  all.  I  — 
you  see  burglars  are  getting  thick.  Two  or 
three  houses  were  entered  last  night." 

He  overshot  himself  in  his  explanations. 
Helene  clung  to  him  in  fright.  "  Burglars  !  Oh, 
horrors  !  I  sha'n't  sleep  in  my  room  to-night  !  — 
I  shan't.  You  must  let  me  sleep  next  to  you  in 
the  blue  room,  won't  you  ?  —  and  leave  your  door 
open  ?" 

"Now,  now,  don't  be  foolish,"  said  Davis 
hastily.  "I  had  no  business  to  say  a  word 
about  it.  There  ain't  the  slightest  danger  with 
Tim  and  me  in  the  house.  Sleep  in  the  blue 
room  if  you  wish.  I'll  leave  the  gas  burning  in 
my  room,  if  it'll  give  you  any  comfort.  What 
did  you  come  back  for,  anyhow?" 

Helene  forgot  her  fear  at  this  question,  and 
grew  rosy  with  some  new  thought.  "  I  forgot 


21  JStanbtr  of  %  tljirir  §ott0e.  215 

to  tell  you  he  made  me  promise  for  next 
spring." 

"  Who  did  ?  "  inquired  Davis,  abstractedly. 

"Why,  Wilson,  of  course." 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes  !  I  see,  I  see  !  Next  spring, 
eh  ?  Very  well,  I've  no  objections." 

"  But  it  seems  to  make  you  sad,"  pouted 
Helene.  "  I  won't  marry  at  all  if  you  don't 
want  me  to." 

"There,  there!  Don't  mind.  I  was  only 
thinking  of  your  mother,  and  of  Lawrence. 
He  would  be  twenty-five  now,  and  she  forty- 
eight.  Now  go  to  bed  this  minute."  He  put 
his  arm  about  her  and  half  carried  her  out  of 
the  room. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

BRENNAN    SACRIFICES    HIS    MUSTACHE. 

DRENNAN  had  the  temperament  of  the 
**-*  gambler,  who  is  able  to  play  with  impassive 
face  whether  he  loses  or  wins.  When  luck  is 
against  him  he  stops,  goes  on  a  journey,  or  does 
some  penance,  and  resumes  play  again  when  he 
thinks  luck  is  appeased,  without  bitterness  and 
without  losing  faith  in  himself  or  in  his  God. 
The  possibility  of  defeat  has  been  taken  into 
account.  Brennan,  having  played  with  luck  on 
his  side  so  long,  did  not  consider  everything  lost 
because  the  tide  now  seemed  to  set  the  other 
way.  He  went  into  temporary  retirement  and 
studied  affairs  with  vigilant  eyes.  He  did  not 
underestimate  the  gravity  of  the  crisis,  but  he 
had  confidence  in  himself  and  in  fate<f  As  a 
young  man  he  could  face  darker  hours  with 
surer  return  of  hopeful  spirit  than  Davis. 

He  saw  that  this  was  no  common  storm.  He 
was  student  enough  to  see  that  it  was  an  out- 
break of  popular  indignation.  It  could  not  be 
silenced  ;  it  must  be  ridden  out  as  ships  ride  out 


316 


of  tlje  <ftt)irb  fyonst.  217 

a  gale.  He  saw  this  because  he  came  more  into 
contact  with  the  crowds  of  people  who  were 
thinking  upon  these  reforms  than  Davis,  and  he 
saw  their  growing  hate  in  their  eyes  as  he  passed 
them  on  the  street.  He  read  ominous  prophecy 
in  the  changed  tone  of  the  press  of  the  whole 
country,  which  he  studied  from  day  to  day  as  a 
physician  feels  the  pulse  of  his  patient.  He 
knew  that  these  papers  were  sure  indications  of 
a  revolt. 

There  came  a  moment  when  he  abandoned 
retirement  and  sought  obscurity.  He  thought 
a  stranger  in  the  hotel  lobby  one  night  was 
looking  at  him  stealthily.  It  was  an  impression 
rather  than  a  belief,  and  would  have  passed 
away  had  not  the  bartender  uttered  a  friendly 
word. 

"  Say,  Tom,  what're  y'  doin'  wid  de  Pinker- 
ton  daytective  follerin'  yeh  like  a  body-gyard? 
Your  riyal  nibbs  is  gettin'  to  be  a  regular  Jay 
Gould." 

Tom  looked  at  him  sharply.  "  Detective? 
Where  ?  " 

"  W'y,  his  nobs  over  dere  in  de  w'ite  pants. 
I  never  see  him  'cept  w'en  " 

Brennan  was  startled.  "Oh!  don't  notice 
him.  I'm  onto  him.  Say,  where  are  the  boys, 
Sam?" 


218  21  Jttembn:  of  tt)t  Sljirtr 

"Ain't  seen  anny  of  'em,  Tom.  Dey've 
skipped  —  gone  up  de  river.  See?  If  I  was 
you  I'd  take  a  chase." 

Brennan  leaned  against  the  bar  carelessly, 
but  he  said : 

"Is  his  leglets  there  yet?" 

"He's  stepped  outside.  He's  talkin'  wid  a 
big  duffer  in  a  gray  hat." 

"  Say,  Sam,  I'm  going  up-stairs.  I  won't  be 
down  till  night.  Here's  what  I  owe  yeh.  If 
anybody  asks  where  I'm  gone,  say  I  went  out 
the  side  door.  See  ?  " 

"  I'm  a-listenin',  Tommy.  Go  to  my  house* 
Tell  my  wife  I  sent  yeh,  and  I'll  be  up  soon.  I 
ain't  a-goin'  back  on  Tom  Brennan.  See  ?  " 

Brennan  slipped  back  of  the  bar  and  through 
a  side  door,  and  when  the  man  in  the  light-col- 
ored trousers  looked  in  again  Sam  was  mopping 
the  bar  and  Brennan  was  gone. 

Brennan  saw  the  whole  situation.  His  bonds- 
men were  getting  alarmed,  distrustful,  and  had 
put  a  man  on  his  track.  He  put  a  bill  into  Sam's 
hand  when  he  came  up  to  supper. 

"  If  Fox  comes  in  put  him  onto  the  game.  Do 
it  careful.  All  you  need  do  is  say,  '  Tom  says : 
"Bail  no  good," 'see!" 

"  Dat's  all  straight,  Tom." 

When  it  grew  dark  Brennan  went  to  his  own 


21  Jflflnbo:  of  tlje  Sljiri  $onse.  219 

room  and  packed  his  smaller  articles  into  a  trunk. 
This  he  marked  to  go  by  express  to  a  point  near 
the  line,  and,  with  a  half-dollar  to  the  janitor,  got 
it  carried  down  unnoticed.  He  then  left  the 
house  with  a  cane  in  his  hand,  as  if  going  for  a 
stroll,  and  walked  rapidly  away  into  the  poorer 
quarter  of  the  city.  He  was  quietly  dressed  in 
dark  clothes,  and  wore  the  characterless  Derby 
hat,  and  felt  safe  from  espionage. 

He  walked  on  down  into  the  region  of  cheap 
apartment  hotels,  hideous  with  their  peeling  plas- 
ter and  their  doorways  like  the  mouths  of  caves. 
Reaching  one  of  these  square,  hot  and  dingy 
brick  structures,  he  mounted  its  dim  and  clammy 
stairway  to  Suite  20,  and  rang  a  bell.  A  woman 
came  to  the  door.  Her  face  was  in  the  shadow, 
but  the  light  shone  through  her  fluff  of  yellow 
hair. 

"  Hello,  Tom  ! "  she  said,  in  a  pleasant  contralto. 
"  You're  a  pretty  fellow.  Come  in.  Why  haven't 
you  been  down  ?  You're  a  nice  boy," 

"Always  knew  it,  Pat,"  he  said,  as  he  entered. 
She  put  his  hand  away  from  her  neck. 

"  What're  you  doing  these  days  ?     Sit  down  ' 
and  tell  me  all  about  it." 

She  led  the  way  into  a  tiny  sitting-room, 
filled  with  cheap  furniture,  brilliant  in  color. 
She  was  a  pleasant-faced  woman,  though  worn 


220  21  itlembcr  of  tlje  Sljtrt 

and  no  longer  young.  She  smiled  cheerily  at 
Tom.  Her  wrapper  was  not  at  all  tidy,  but  it 
trailed  handsomely  down  her  fine  figure. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Tom.     What's  up  ? " 

"You  will  persist  in  thinking  the  visit 
extraordinary,  Pat." 

"  Why  shouldn't  I  ?  When  were  you  here  last  ? 
Six  months  ago." 

"  Where's  Sir  John  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  the  theater  with  the  girls." 

She  was  looking  at  him  sadly. 

"  You're  in  for  it,  my  boy,"  she  said.  "  Your 
young  career  is  cut  off.  You  must  either  endure 
the  crisp  Canadian  air — or  languish." 

"I  never  languish.  How  do  you  know? 
What  makes  you  think  " 

"  I  read  the  papers,  Tom.  Well,  now,  what 
can  I  do  for  you?  You  never  come  to  see  me 
now  unless  you  need  help." 

Her  tone  was  curiously  tender,  a  mixture  of 
cameraderie  and  a  sort  of  maternal  regard.  With 
that  look  on  her  face,  she  was  beautiful  in  spite 
of  her  dingy  lace  and  untidy  hair. 

"  Cleopatra,  you're  a  great  woman  !  Well,  I 
need  a  razor,  some  advice,  a  priest's  cloak  and 
hat  and  a  safe  messenger  boy  and  some  money. 
I  can  pull  through  all  right  on  that.  I  must  get 
word  to  some  of  the  boys,  Rob  or  Mart." 


21  Jlfember  of  t\)t 

"All  right,  Tom.  I  can  get  it  all  but  the 
money.  Lucky  the  others  are  away.  I'll  get 
out  Sir  John's  razor  and  things." 

In  a  few  moments  Tom  was  standing  before 
the  glass,  razor  and  scissors  about  him.  He 
sighed  comically.  "Say,  Pat,  this  is  the  most 
unkindest  cut  of  all." 

She  understood  him.  "Too  bad,  Tom  ;  your 
mustache  is  a  daisy.  What'll  she  say  ?  " 

"It'll   be    grown   out  again  before  she   sees 


me." 


In  spite  of  himself  there  was  a  plaintive  droop 
in  his  voice.  Brennan  snipped  away  while  she 
sat  watching  him  a  moment. 

"Terrible,  terrible!  Well,  I'll  slip  over  to 
your  uncle's  and  see  what  I  can  swipe  together 
for  you."  She  pinned  up  her  skirt  and  put  on  a 
waterproof  cloak  and  went  out. 

When  she  returned  Brennan  sat  reading  a 
newspaper,  his  feet  on  a  chair,  his  coat  and  vest 
hanging  on  the  knobs  of  the  bureau.  She  stood 
looking  at  him  in  amazement. 

"  Why,  Tom,  you  look  like  a  boy.  My  God, 
how  old  you  make  me  look  ! " 

She  dropped  the  package  which  she  held 
in  her  hands,  and  passed  her  fingers  over  her 
face  as  if  to  feel  the  hollows  there.  The  tears 
started  to  her  eyes. 


51  HUcmbor  of  %  Sljtri  fijouse. 

"  There,  there,  Cleo,  don't  go  off  like  that  ; 
you  make  me  feel  like  a  boy  on  the  point  of 
blubbering.  Say,  Cleo,  how  would  a  Canadian 
excursion  agree  with  you,  eh  ?  "  He  had  an  ob- 
scure idea  of  comforting  her.  * 

She  shook  her  head  sadly  and  grimly.  "  No 
more  such  talk  to  me.  I'm  sick  of  it — I  sup- 
pose you  don't  know  I've  had  a  fever?" 

He  looked  a  little  ashamed.  "Yes,  but  I've 
been  so  busy  " 

"Well,  I've  been  thinking." 

"  Fact  ?  "  stared  Tom. 

"That's  a  fact,"  she  replied  without  emotion, 
her  eyes  upon  his  upper  lip,  which  was  so  sin- 
gularly boyish,  shorn  of  its  mustache.  "And 
when  a  woman  like  me  really  thinks,  it  changes 
her." 

"Well,"  he  said,  with  a  sigh,  after  a  pause. 
"If  you  won't,  you  won't,  that's  all.  I'd  like  to 
have  you  go,  because  you're  good  company. 
You're  a  thoroughly  good  fellow,  Cleo,  that's 
what  you  are.  You've  got  more  brains  than  any 
woman  I  ever  knew.  Now  that's  straight  goods. 
You  may  gamble  on  my  sincerity.  Well,  now, 
just  a  sisterly  hug,  and  then  I'm  off." 

There  was  a  grave  sadness  in  her  eyes  as  he 
rose  to  go.  "  Now  don't  get  mixed  up  in  any 
more  of  these  infernal  bribery  cases,"  she  said. 


21  Jilnnter  af  %  Sfyirb 

"You  may  gamble  on  that  too,"  he  said. 
"  Well,  now,  take  care  of  yourself.  Oh,  about 
getting  word  to  Rob ;  can't  you  go  down  and 
see  him  yourself?  He'll  be  at  the  private  office 
in  the  Commercial  building.  It  will  be  awful 
good  of  you,  Cleo,  because,  you  see,  it's  life  or 
death,  and  if  you  took  it  in  hand  I'd  feel  certain 
it  would  be  done." 

"  Yes,  Fllgo,  Tom.  I  wouldn't  go  out  of  this 
house,  though,  for  anybody  else  to-night/' 

"  I  know  it,  honey  !  Well,  so  long  !  If  you 
ever  feel  like  trying  the  Canadian  air,  let  me 
know  through  Rob.  Good-by  !  " 

He  had  an  irresistible  desire  to  take  a  turn 
around  Newspaper  Corner  and  see  what  was 
going  on.  It  was  a  distinct  theatrical  impulse 
to  try  the  effect  of  this  disguise,  in  which  he 
took  delight.  He  walked  rapidly  along  the 
avenue  leading  toward  Newspaper  Corner.  He 
was  not  sufficiently  reckless  to  ride  in  a  horse- 
car,  though  he  actually  stepped  upon  the  plat- 
form of  one  before  he  remembered  himself.  His 
broad  hat,  round,  smooth  face  and  cloak  made 
him  look  like  a  young  divinity  student. 

He  stood  for  a  moment  on  the  corner,  looking 
up  the  crowded  and  brilliantly  lighted  thorough- 
fare, which  was  lined  with  newspaper  offices. 
Everywhere  before  the  bulletin -boards,  bunches 


224  21  JHembo;  of  tlje  Stjtri  fijottse. 

of  excited  men  were  grouped,  talking  with  much 
gesticulation.  Others  were  reading  the  papers 
by  the  light  of  the  shop  windows.  Serial  waves 
of  newsboys  rushed  every  hour  in  every  direc- 
tion, yelling  like  little  fiends.  Brennan  laughed 
with  genuine  pleasure  to  think  that  he  was  the 
main  cause  of  all  that  turmoil.  He  was  for  the 
moment  as  big  as  Elaine.  He  stopped  a  boy 
who  was  passing.  "Wait,  my  son,"  he  said, 
with  solemn  intonation. 

The  boy  stopped,  and,  seeing  that  he  was 
addressing  a  priest,  his  manner  changed  to  timid 
awe  :  "  Paper,  mister  ?  " 

Brennan  bought  several  of  the  papers,  and  the 
boy,  delighted  with  his  sales,  ran  on  down  the 
street,  his  voice  rising  above  the  sound  of  the 
cars  and  passing  cabs:  "  Midnight  'dishun  !  All 
about  robbery  ! " 

Brennan  struck  out  at  last  in  a  steady,  swift 
walk  toward  Davis'  city  home.  He  must  have 
some  money.  As  he  went  along  he  wondered 
when  he  would  be  able  to  walk  these  streets  in 
daylight.  The  cloak  he  wore  was  oppressive, 
and  he  flung  it  back  as  he  walked  the  cooler 
and  more  shadowy  avenues  of  the  city. 

There  was  something  impressive  in  the  quiet 
of  Courtney  Street,  and  Brennan  was  con- 
trasting the  excitement  of  down  town  with  the 


21  Ulemter  of  tlje  SIftri  gon0e.  225 

solemn  darkness  of  this  avenue  of  lofty,  close- 
shuttered  houses.  As  he  walked  he  was  think- 
ing over  the  letter  he  had  written  to  Helene, 
and  wishing  he  had  not  said  some  things  just 
as  they  looked  to  him  now  with  the  whole  letter 
before  his  eyes. 

"  You  must  not  be  alarmed  at  anything  you 
hear,"  he  had  written.  "  We're  not  in  any  danger. 
This  will  all  pass  off  in  a  few  weeks.  Wish  I 
could  see  you  before  I  go  to  a  foreign  land. 
I'm  going  now  to  see  the  Duke,  and  we'll  go 
together.  We'll  send  for  you  soon  ;  so  don't 
worry.  You'd  laugh  to  see  me  now.  My  mus- 
tache is  gone  !  Yes,  it  was  that  or  life  —  I  pre- 
ferred, on  the  whole,  that  the  mus.  should 
perish.  I  inferred  you'd  agree  with  me — any- 
how I'm  as  safe  as  a  night-watchman  in  the 
corner  grocery.  Good-by  for  a  few  days." 

It  was  intended  to  make  her  smile.  He  knew 
that  she  had  no  realization  of  the  gravity  of  his 
offense.  She  had  no  conscience,  because  she 
had  no  knowledge  about  such  things.  It  is  a 
woman's  chiefest  charm  in  the  eyes  of  men  like 
Brennan  —  this  ignorance  of  all  great  moral  and 
social  issues,  and  this  childlike  acceptance  of  their 
code  of  morality  from  men.  It  has  a  delightful 
sureness  of  return  and  justification  —  this  code 
of  morality,  like  the  logic  of  the  Mohametans. 


226  21  JHcmbn*  of  %  Sljtrb 

It  is  so  much  easier  to  maintain  the  respect 
and  admiration  of  such  childlike  minds.  They 
fear  the  self-poised,  self-respecting  woman  for 
obvious  reasons. 

Tom  wished  he  had  not  sent  that  letter  so 
early.  It  might  do  him  harm. 

As  he  neared  Davis'  house,  he  went  slower 
and  kept  a  keen  eye  for  watchers,  studying  every 
shadow  on  the  other  side  of  the  street.  On 
the  opposite  walk  the  darkness  was  reddened  by 
a  lamp,  and  in  the  deep  shadow  of  the  steps  he 
thought  he  saw  a  man's  Derby  hat.  It  was  safe 
to  be  suspicious,  and  he  turned  off  and  entered 
the  alley  and  came  out  by  the  servant's  door  on 
a  side  street. 

Mary  came  to  the  door.  She  was  greatly 
astonished  to  see  a  priest  instead  of  Tim. 

"What  news?"  said  Brennan.  "I  want  to 
see  Mr.  Davis." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Brennan — an'  is  it  you-u  ?" 

"  It  is.  Lave  me  to  enter.  I  want  to  surprise 
the  governor,  Mary,  mavourneen." 

"  Oh,  you're  a  ro-gue,"  laughed  the  girl,  who 
always  enjoyed  his  banter. 

"lam.     Do  I  look  it?" 

"  You  look  like  Father  McPhelan,  sure  !  The 
livin'  breath  an'  soul  av  'im  !  An'  you  talk  like 
'im." 


21  ittcmber  of  %  Sfyirtr  4jon0*.  227 

"  I  was  so  ed-u-cayted." 

He  went  up  the  stairs,  shaking  his  finger  at 
the  girl,  to  whom  it  was  all  a  capital  joke.  He 
found  no  one  in  the  library,  but  the  open  desk, 
the  little  table  with  its  chocolate,  the  chairs 
filled  with  papers,  all  indicated  that  the  Iron 
Duke  was  absent  but  momentarily.  He  was, 
evidently,  preparing  to  leave. 

Tom  threw  back  the  folds  of  his  cloak  and 
smiled  at  himself  in  the  mirror.  The  Duke 
would  not  know  him. 

When  Davis  re-entered  Brennan  was  sipping 
the  chocolate,  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head. 
He  was  seated  on  the  edge  of  the  table. 

Davis  was  startled.     "  Who're  you  ?  " 

Brennan  grinned  with  delight.  "  I  knew  it. 
I'm  in  it.  I  do  it  clear  out  o'  sight." 

Davis  recognized  the  voice.  His  tone  dropped 
to  a  surly  growl.  "  Oh,  it's  you,  is  it  ?  What 
you  got  that  rig  on  for  ?  Thought  you'd  left 
town." 

"Not  yet,"  replied  Brennan,  coldly. 

"Well,  what's  up?" 

"  General,  in  the  famous  words  of  Danger 
Dick,  'The  jig's  up." 

"You  mean" 

"  I  mean  that  Holway  has  squeaked  and  skip- 
ped, or  skipped  and  squeaked." 


228  31  iJlcmber  of  ttye  ®t)irb  < 

Davis  dropped  heavily  into  a  chair.  A  hoarse, 
slow  snarl  came  from  his  set  teeth.  "The 
damned  traitor  !  I  was  afraid  of  him  —  and  Fox  ?  " 

"Fox  has  emigrated  too.  The  report  is  that 
we've  skipped.  Newspaper  Corner  swarms  with 
newsboys  and  special  editions.  Here's  the  latest." 
He  took  several  papers  from  his  pockets.  "  I 
bought  a  collection  as  I  came  along." 

Davis  snatched  one  of  the  papers  and  read  it 
while  Brennan  went  on:  "The  town  is  simply 
wild.  You'd  think  an  election  was  going  on. 
Great  reading,  ain't  it  ?"  He  looked  over  Davis' 
shoulder.  "  '  DAVIS  DOWNED.  THE  IRON  DUKE 
MEETS  His  WATERLOO.  The  Roused  People 
Demand  His  Instant  Incarceration/  Only  one 
column  to  me,  you  see.  This  is  one  of  the  cases 
where  to  be  lowly  is  to  be  happy." 

Davis  broke  forth  at  last.  His  wrath  was 
frightful  to  see.  His  voice  was  raucous  as  that 
of  a  tiger  whose  teeth  are  clinched  in  flesh. 
"  The  damned  curs  !  Every  one  of  'em  '11  come 
back  on  me  now  it's  safe.  When  I  had  the  pub- 
lic, they  licked  my  feet/' 

He  paced  up  and  down  the  room,  twisting 
and  tearing  the  papers,  his  face  livid  with  pas- 
sion, his  limbs  weak.  "But  they'll  see  —  God 
damn  them  to  hell !  I'll  fight  'em !  I'll  fight — 


21  JUnnber  of  tl)e  Stjirb  §w8t.  229 

fight  until  death.  They'll  see  whether  I  can  be 
stuck  in  the  throat  like  a  sheep  ! " 

Brennan  sat  on  the  edge  of  the  table,  watch- 
ing Davis  in  this  convulsion  of  rage. 

"No  use,  General,"  he  said,  gently,  when 
Davis  sank  into  a  chair,  shaking  like  a  leaf  from 
his  paroxysm.  "  You  can't  fight  this  thing." 

"I  can't!     Why  can't  I?" 

"  Because  it's  fighting  the  people  of  this  State. 
The  damned  fools  have  gone  off  in  a  spasm  of 
virtue,  and  we've  got  to  be  scapegoats.  I  never 
saw  anything  like  it.  The  papers  reek  with  it ; 
the  air  is  heavy  with  it.  The  legislature  is  para- 
lyzed. Nothing  since  the  Credit  Mobilier  com- 
pares with  it.  They'd  sacrifice  us  like  cock- 
roaches to  save  their  cussed  necks.  They're 
going  to  make  us  a  dreadful  example.  An  in- 
dignation meeting  is  being  held  this  very  night 
to  denounce  the  legislature,  exterminate  the 
lobby  and  down  the  Iron  Duke  and  his  lieu- 
tenant." 

Davis  rose  again.  "That's  what  grinds  me! 
After  submitting  to  this  thing  for  years  —  for 
fifty  years — they  must  turn  on  me — single  me 
out !  " 

"Well,  I  s'pose  they  had  to  draw  the  line 
somewhere." 

"  Draw  the  line  !     Yes,   two  generations  of 


230  21  Jflcmbcr  of  tlje  Sljirlr  <3ou0e. 

bribery  in  all  kinds  of  bad  causes,  and  when  I 
come  to  put  a  good  cause  through — a  cause 
affecting  millions  of  people — forced  into  bribery 
by  the  condition  of  legislation  —  they  must  draw 
the  lirre  on  me,  damn  their  miserable  souls  !  " 

"Set  down,  Governor.     Take  it  easy." 

Davis  lifted  his  voice  in  a  sort  of  roar.    "  Take 

it  easy  !     By    God,   if  I " He  seemed  to 

recollect  himself  suddenly,  and  went  to  the'door 
and  locked  it. 

Brennan  watched  him  with  a  comical  look  of 
suspicion  on  his  face.  "  Now  —  now,  what'd  you 
do  that  for? ;> 

"  To  keep  Helene  out." 

"Is  she  here?"  asked  Brennan,  in  a  serious 
tone. 

"  Yes.  Came  up  late.  But  never  mind  her. 
Sit  down.  This  business  must  be  studied,"  he 
said,  with  something  of  his  old  decision  and 
control. 

"That's  right.  Now  you're  talking  sense. 
I'm  in  the  soup,  too,  recollect." 

Davis  stared  at  him  a  moment.  "  You  ?  Oh, 
yes  !  I  forgot.  Why  don't  you  work  Fox's 
game  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  sneer. 

Bj-ennan  took  off  his  hat,  and  gave  it  a  twirl. 
"  How  d'  y'  like  me  tile?"  he  inquired,  to  gain 
control  of  himself.  He  had  risked  a  good  deal 


JUnnbcr  of  %  $I)irb  $ou0c.  231 


to  see  Davis,  and  this  angered  him.  "  Good 
idea,  only  it's  a  little  late  now,"  he  added. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

11  As  I  came  up  the  street  I  saw  a  man  stationed 
opposite.  The  house  is  watched.  We  are  liable 
to  be  arrested  any  hour." 

"They  wouldn't  do  that!" 

"  Wouldn't  they  ?  Well,  don't  trust  your 
bondsmen  too  far.  They're  going  to  drop  you 
in  less'n  two  days.  They  can't  stand  the  pres- 


sure." 


"  You  don't  know  the  men  who  stand  for 
us.  They  are  " 

"  Trustees  in  the  road.  Just  the  men  to  sacri- 
fice us.  I  tell  you  we're  in  for  it.  The  road  is 
going  to  pieces.  Got  any  cash  about  you  ?" 

"A  few  hundred  dollars;  why?" 

"  We'll  need  it.  Turn  down  that  light  a  lit- 
tle." 

Davis  turned  out  the  burner,  and  Brennan 
went  to  the  window  and  looked  out  for  several 
minutes. 

"Aha !  He's  there  in  the  cellar- way  opposite. 
Oh,  they  have  an  eye  on  us  !  That  man  is  paid 
by  Deacon  Hall,  your  bondsman.  His  orders 
are  to  see  who  comes  and  goes  and  to  keep  an 
eye  on  you.  See  ?  Now  my  plan  is  for  you  to 
put  on  an  old  coat  and  hat,  slip  out  back  "- 


232  21  Jflembur  of  tlje  tijtrtr 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  won't  sneak 
away  like  a  cat  !  " 

Brennan  was  a  little  irritated.  "Well,  I  ain't 
standing  on  my  dignity  a  cent's  worth.  It's 
sneak  or  fifteen  years  at  hard  labor  for  each  of 


us." 


"Fifteen  years.     What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  I  mean  that  when  they  arrest  us  again  no 
bail  will  get  us  out.  I  tell  you  this  fool  public 
has  an  idea  of  making  us  examples,  and  they'll 
do  it  sure  's  hell/' 

Davis  sat  staring  into  space.  His  eyes  ex- 
panded and  the  blood  fell  slowly  out  of  his  face. 
"  Fifteen  years  !  " 

"Nothing  else  —  unless  we  take  a  sneak  to- 
night. They  may  put  us  in  the  laundry  or  the 
harness-shop.  It'll  be  terrible  on  Napoleonic 
business  men  like  you  and  me.  Isle  of  Elba 
racket  to  men  who  control  the  traffic  of  a  great 
railway  like  a  general  commanding  an  army  !  / 
make  one  dash  for  liberty.  Better  a  tramp  in 
Arcadia  than  a  compulsory  harness-maker  here. 
See?" 

Davis  sat  with  bowed  head.  "But  Helene?" 
he  muttered  to  himself. 

"  She'll  be  all  right  among  friends  here. 
Send  for  her  by  and  by.  If  you  don't  you'll 
receive  her  in  striped  clothing,  and  talk  to  her 


21  JHnnbtr  of  tlje  (ftljirir  (Douse.  233 

through  a  barred  window.  I'd  leave  a  dying 
mother  in  a  case  like  this,"  he  said,  his  voice 
sinking  to  a  low  key.  "  I'll  tell  you  I  don't 
want  any  State's  prison  life  in  mine.  I've  been 
too  free  in  my  life.  I've  been  my  own  master, 
and  since  being  with  you  I've  reached  the  point 
of  commanding  men.  I  don't  want  to  go  to 
breakfast  lock-step  with  a  murderer  and  a 
burglar.  I  don't  care  about  changing  the  cut 
of  my  hair  and  clothes.  Come ;  this  won't  do. 
We  must  make  a  break,  right  now." 

Brennan  was  honestly  trying  to  rouse  Davis 
to  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

Davis  shuddered.  "My  God,  what  a  picture 
you  bring  up  !  " 

Brennan  dropped  all  jocularity.  His  voice 
grew  intense  and  husky.  "  It  ain't  the  half  of  it ! 
Why,  man,  for  you  and  me  it  would  be  simply 
hell  !  To  a  man  like  you,  handling  daily  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  dollars,  commanding  a 
thousand  cars  and  five  thousand  men  ;  you,  with 
your  financial  and  executive  ability,  set  to  work 
punching  holes  in  leather  ten  hours  a  day  " 

"  Stop ! "  cried  Davis,  his  face  white  and 
twitching.  "  God  Almighty,  man,  do  you  want 
to  drive  me  crazy?  " 

"  I  am  trying  to  rouse  you.  We  must  get 
away  right  now." 


234  21  Jttembfr  of  tlje  Sljiri 

Davis  again  set  his  teeth.  "  I  won't.  I'll 
stay  right  here  and  fight  them.  Sit  down  ;  give 
me  the  names  of  the  other  men  you  bribed  — 
quick  !  I'll  not  go  alone." 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  Brennan,  coldly. 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  they  are  interested  in  getting  us 
away.  I  can't  and  won't  turn  on  my  friends  till 
the  last  ditch.  Besides,  they  are  trump  cards. 
It  won't  do  to  go  back  on  them  now." 

"  But  you'd  sacrifice  me  if  necessary,"  said 
Davis. 

This  was  another  uncalled-for  thrust,  and 
Brennan  said,  in  deadly  earnest  :  "  I  tell  you, 
I'd  sacrifice  my  own  brother  to  keep  out  of  that 
stone  wall.  Say,  did  you  ever  see  a  man  come 
out  of  jail  after  fifteen  years  ? "  he  asked,  in  a  new 
tone.  "  I  have,  twice,  in  my  native  town.  Once, 
not  four  years  ago,  I  saw  a  man  come  back  to 
life  ;  that's  what  it  is,  coming  back  to  life.  I'll 
never  forget  how  he  looked  if  I  live  a  thousand 
years.  He  kind  of  shambled  when  he  walked. 
His  hat  was  too  wide  for  him  ;  his  clothes  seemed 
strange  on  him.  His  face  had  that  sickly  color 
called  jail-white,  and  he  winked  and  stared  every 
time  he  lifted  his  head,  and  mumbled  and  burst 
out  sobbing  every  little  way  as  something  familiar 


21  JUnnbcr  of  tlje  Sljirb  £jou0c.  235 

came  to  his  eyes.  A  crowd  of  jeering  brats  fol- 
lowed him." 

He  acted  this,  in  his  fervor,  so  vividly  that 
Davis  groaned  and  sank  into  his  seat  at  the  desk. 
Brennan  went  on,  carried  away  with  the  picture 
and  the  emotion  it  called  up  :  "I  trembled  like 
a  leaf  when  he  passed  me.  I'm  an  imaginative 
cuss.  Nothing  takes  hold  on  me  like  confine- 
ment. I've  always  lived  out  of  doors.  I  grew 
up  in  the  open  air.  I  like  action,  liberty,  and  one 
year  in  a  cell  would  kill  me.  I  tell  you,  if  I 

couldn't  escape,  I'd But  I  ain't  got  to  that 

yet.  I'm  going  to  make  a  break  for  tall  timber, 
as  they  say  out  west.  I'm  scared.  I'm  free  to 
admit  that.  Only  I  wanted  to  see  you  and  Hel- 
ene,  or  I  wouldn't  have  come  back  here  at  all." 
He  paused  here  as  if  another  consideration  came 
in.  "  Couldn't  see  her,  could  I  ?  "  he  asked, 
almost  timidly. 

"  No,"  answered  Davis,  in  a  low  but  decisive 
voice.  t(  No,  it's  too  late." 

Brennan  drew  a  quick  sigh.  "  Well,  I'll  need 
a  little  money.  Let  me  have  what  you  can 
spare." 

Davis  mechanically  handed  him  a  roll  of  bills. 

"  Here,  take  this  — take  it  all ;  I  won't  need  it." 

Brennan  put  the  bills  away.  '  This  will  come 
back  to  you  by  and  by  all  right.  I've  salted 


236  a  iJIember  of  %  Stytri  fijotrse. 

down  a  little  barrel  where  I  need  it,  but  I 
couldn't  get  hold  of  it  just  now.  Am  very 
much  obliged.  I'll  send  a  check.  You'll  need 
all  you've  got  if  you  stay  and  fight  this  thing. 
Better  come,  Davis,"  he  pleaded  as  he  prepared 
to  go. 

Davis  sat  immovable.  "  No,  I  stay  here." 
'  Well,  good-by.  I  know  we  could  get  away 
all  clear,  if  we  reached  the  river.  I'm  all  right. 
Some  of  the  boys  are  there  with  a  steam  yacht." 
He  turned  in  a  last  appeal.  He  hated  to  leave 
Davis  alone  to  what  he  knew  was  certain  de- 
struction. He  came  back  and  put  his  hand  on 
Davis'  shoulder.  "  Better  come,  Governor.  It's 
simply  desperation  staying  here." 

Davis  shook  his  head  harshly.  "  No,  I  tell 
you,  I'll  stay  here." 

"Well,  all  right.  But,  if  you  should  change 
your  mind,  let  Tim  Sheehan  know  through  Bob. 
He'll  look  out  for  you."  He  paused  at  the  door, 
and  a  little  tremor  came  into  his  voice.  "Tell 
Helene  I  hope  to  see  her  again  soon.  I'll  write. 
Good-by."  He  unlocked  the  door  and  went  out, 
closing  it  softly  behind  him. 

Davis  sat  at  his  desk  for  a  long  time  in 
thought  too  deep  for  motion.  He  recognized 
the  truth  of  all  that  Brennan  had  said.  He  was 


21  JlUmbo;  of  tlje  (Ztyiri  $oti0e.  237 

in  a  £&/  de  sac.  His  wealth,  his  social  influence 
were  alike  swallowed  up  in  the  cataclysm  of  pub- 
lic indignation.  His  eyes  fell  on  his  papers,  and 
he  began  to  arrange  them  and  pack  them  into 
the  boxes.  He  worked  rapidly  and  soon  had 
them  properly  sorted.  Then  he  locked  the 
door  and  sat  down  to  contemplate,  at  last,  the 
desperate  measure.  He  was  like  a  man  hemmed 
in  by  a  burning  forest,  with  this  difference  :  he 
had  very  little  inducement  to  live. 

He  faced  the  problem  squarely.  Helene  was 
provided  for,  a  little  property  secured  in  her  own 
name,  and  then  Tuttle  was  rich.  He  balanced 
the  two  evils  in  a  singularly  calm  way.  He 
could  not  survive  imprisonment,  and  was  a  con- 
vict's death  any  more  honorable  to  him  than 

Would  Helene  be  any  more  hideously  smirched 
in  the  one  case  than  in  the  other  ?  And  was 
there  not  infinitely  less  suffering  for  him  in  this  ? 

He  rose  and  went  to  a  closet  and  brought 
back  a  valise,  out  of  which  he  took  a  burglar's 
lantern,  and  a  chisel  or  two,  which  he  laid  on  the 
floor.  He  took  a  cap  and  shawl  also  from  the 
bag,  and  threw  them  carelessly  on  the  carpet. 
He  went  about  this  as  if  it  all  had  been  planned 
carefully.  He  overturned  a  chair  at  the  desk  as  if 
to  give  the  impression  of  a  struggle.  He  opened 
the  window  at  the  back.  He  had  a  curiously 


238  21  JUcmbcr  of  tlje  (Sfyirtr 

methodical  air.  He  left  on  the  window  a  thin 
bar  of  steel.  This  done,  he  went  to  the  door 
and  listened. 

As  he  stood  there  he  heard  a  fire-bell  striking 
solemnly.  He  returned  to  the  desk,  took  off  his 
coat  and  vest  and  laid  them  on  a  chair  by  the 
closet  door.  At  last  he  took  up  the  revolver, 
looked  into  the  barrel  and  pressed  it  first  to  his 
temple,  then  to  the  back  of  his  head.  He 
seemed  to  fear  that  the  noise  would  alarm 
Helene,  and  he  paused  as  if  something1  unex- 
pected had  changed  his  mind. 

He  looked  about  the  room  slowly.  At  length 
the  partly  opened  door  of  the  closet  attracted 
him,  and  he  arose  and  stole  softly  across  the 
room.  He  opened  the  door  and  entered,  draw- 
ing it  close  to  .with  his  left  hand.  After  an  in- 
stant came  a  dull  report,  and,  the  door  opening 
slightly,  a  faint  gray  smoke  curled  thinly  out  at 
the  top.  A  moment  later  the  door  swung  open, 
and  the  dead  man  fell  back  into  the  room  and 
lay  upon  his  face. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  Brennan  came  upon 
deck,  and  faced  the  beautiful  morning  breeze. 
They  were  just  entering  the  sea.  On  each  hand 
were  dim,  low  promontories  of  grassy  hills  whose 
feet  were  buried  in  yellow  sand.  The  sea  was 


21  JHmber  of  tlje  Sfyirir  §owt.  239 

blue  as  cobalt  and  lined  with  foam  that  glittered 
like  ridges  of  snowy  salt.  Fishermen's  sails, 
aslant  in  the  cool  wind,  shone  with  the  glancing 
light  of  the  unclouded  sun.  The  yachtsmen 
were  singing;  the  captain,  with  hands  shoved 
into  the  pockets  of  his  snowy  coat,  was  walking 
the  deck,  whistling  in  exultation. 

Brennan  leaped  on  deck  with  a  burst  of  tenor 
song.  The  captain  turned. 

"  Hello,  old  man !  How  do  you  feel  this 
morning?" 

"Like  new,"  said  Brennan,  with  a  ready  laugh 
and  exultant  whoop.  "Ain't  this  great  ?  South- 
wester;  good  for  all  day." 

" Beats  railroading  these  days,  eh?" 

"  You  bet  your  life  !  "  Brennan  agreed,  and 
with  shining  face  and  merry  voice  he  sang : 

"  «  With  the  sea  before, 
And  the  wind  ashore  — 

Then  ho,  lads,  ho  ! 
Oh,  what  care  I  ? 
Teedley  dee,  teedley  die  ! 

Yoho,  my  lads,  yoho  ! ' 

Say,  I'm  ready  for  breakfast." 
[THE  END.] 


M518982 


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